B00ARI2G5C EBOK (17 page)

I enliven his feasts, adorn his dances:

Where his provision lacks, there mine enhances.

THE HERALD
. To boast with charm’s your proper part,

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But let us also see your art.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER
.

I’ll snap my fingers then; see how lights play

And flicker round the chariot straight away!

Here’s a pearl necklace—out it jumps; and here

Are clasps of gold for neck and ear;

[
He continues to snap his fingers in all directions
.]

And combs, of course, and diadems,

And gold rings set with priceless gems.

Sometimes I offer flames as well

Where they may kindle, who can tell!

THE HERALD
. Now watch it snatch, the foolish mob!

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Even the giver’s having a hard job.

He snaps out trinkets left and right;

It’s like a dream, and they all fight

And grab for them. But what new tricks

Are these? One catches something, picks

It up, and what, for all his pains,

Is the reward? Nothing remains!

The string of pearls has vanished, and

Black beetles scuttle in his hand.

He casts them down, and now instead

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They’re buzzing round his silly head.

And all the rest are fooled likewise,

With monstrous moths their empty prize.

The rogue! He promised them a lot,

And now fool’s gold is all they’ve got.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER
.

It seems your herald’s role is to proclaim

The hollow mask, but not to name

The true reality that lies behind;

That is beyond your shallow courtly mind.

But we’ll not quarrel here. To you, my master, I

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Shall turn, and you will make reply.

[
Addresnng
PLUTUS
.]

Did you not give me my four steeds,

This chariot with its whirlwind speeds?

Do I not drive as you command me,

There in an instant where you send me?

And did I not triumphantly

Win you the palm of victory?

How often I have fought your wars,

And every time the day was yours!

The laurel that adorns your brow,

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I wove it, for my mind and hands knew how.

PLUTUS
. You are, as I will gladly testify,

Spirit of my spirit, acting ever as I

Would wish; your wealth exceeds my own.

Acknowledging your service, let me bear

Witness that this green laurel bough I wear

Is precious to me like no other crown.

This word I speak to all, and it is true:

Beloved son, I am well pleased in you.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER
[
to
THE CROWD]
.

Look, now I have distributed

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My greatest gifts: on many a head

A flame that spurted from my hand

Now flickers. Fiery tongues dance round,

Pausing on each of them in turn:

To one they cling, the next they spurn,

But seldom does the fire blaze high

In brilliant bloom that soon will die;

Few even recognize the spark

Before it fails and all is dark.

CHATTERING WOMEN
.

Who’s that up there behind, asquat

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The luggage-box? I bet he’s not

The genuine article. A clown,

But hunger and thirst have thinned him down;

We’ve never seen clowns that weren’t fat.

Try pinching him, he’ll not feel that!

THE SKINNY FELLOW
*

Disgusting females, let me be!

I know you have no use for me.

Once, Home and Woman meant the same,

And
Avaritia
was my name;

Those were the days! Good luck about

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The house; lots in and nothing out.

My coffers were well stocked with gold—

I was a mortal sin, we’re told.

But in more recent years, this passion

For saving’s not been woman’s fashion:

Like all bad payers, she has more

Wishes than ducats. It’s a sore

Plight for her husband, he’s beset

On every side by ruinous debt.

Her spinning-money she’ll soon spend

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On clothes and on her fancy friend;

She dines and wines with every sort

Of squire who comes to pay her court.

So I set greater store by gold, being wiser,

And now my masculine name is Miser.

THE LEADER OF THE WOMEN
.

Miserly dragon! Let him stick

To his own kind. It’s just a trick

To turn our men against us, though

That’s hardly needful, as we know.

THE CROWD OF WOMEN
.

You old straw guy! Old skin and bone!

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How dare he threaten us? Come on,

Give him a slap! That ugly frown

Won’t frighten us. Let’s pull him down!

The dragons are just wood and paper!

THE HERALD
. My staff calls order! Stop this caper!—

But my help’s scarcely needed now.

Look at those fearsome monsters, how

Quickly they clear a space, and spread

Their double wings, their claws of dread!

Those scaly dragon-snouts, fire-spitting,

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Chatter with rage. The crowd’s retreating;

It scatters. Now there’s room.

[
PLUTUS
dismounts from the chariot
.]

How like a king

He has dismounted! At his beckoning

The dragons set to work: the chest

Is lifted off at his behest,

Brought to him, set down at his feet,

With gold and miser, all complete.

Now this is a miraculous thing.

PLUTUS
[
to
THE CHARIOTEER]
.

You have laid down your heavy burden here;

Now you are free to fly to your own sphere,

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For here it is not. Here we are surrounded

By grotesque motley shapes, wild and confounded.

Only where you gaze clear into sweet clarity,

Trusting yourself alone, there you should be:

Where you are yours, the beautiful and the good

Alone can please. There make your world—in solitude!

THE BOY CHARIOTEER
.

As your true envoy I esteem myself; so too

I love you as my next of kin. Where you

Dwell, there is fullness; and wherever I

May be, there all I bless and gratify.

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Confused by life, men often hesitate

Whether to serve you, or commit their fate

To me. Your followers of course enjoy

A life of ease, but mine must constantly employ

Their energies. My deeds I cannot hide:

If I but breathe I am identified.

Farewell then, since you grant my happiness: I go,

But I’ll return when you shall whisper so.

[
He leaves as he came
.]

PLUTUS
. Now it is time to set the treasure free.

To strike the locks I take the herald’s stave;

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And they fly open. In bronze vessels, see!

The golden lifeblood stirs, a seething wave,

And jewellery—rings and chains, a crown—

Which soon the metal flood will swallow and melt down.

THE CROWD
[
yelling by turns]
.

Oh look, oh look, it’s overspilling!

Right to the edge the chest is filling!—

See how they melt, the cups of gold,

See how the rolls of coin are rolled!—

The ducats dance as if new-struck;

Oh joyful sight, oh great good luck!—

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I watch my dearest wish come true!

They’re spinning on the ground now too—

This is your chance, now use it quick,

Stoop to be rich, and take your pick!—

Our lot’s the strongest, we’re the best,

We’ll carry off the treasure-chest.—

THE HERALD
. You fools, it’s just a masquerade!

What are you doing? That’s enough

Greed for one evening. Did you think this stuff

Was gold and money? I’m afraid

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You louts don’t even qualify

For gaming-counters in this game.

A pleasant fancy: you think that’s the same

As the coarse truth? And indeed, why

Should you know truth? You wildly snatch

At any dull illusion you can catch.

Oh mask of Plutus, lord of mummery,

Scatter this rabble mob for me!

PLUTUS
. For that, no doubt, your staff is fit,

If I may briefly borrow it!—

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I’ll dip it in the soup of gold.—

Now, mummers, have a care! Behold

It flash and splash and spark and spit!

Soon it’s red-hot, see how it glows!

Now anyone who comes too close

Will be unmercifully singed. Stand clear!

I must pace out a circle here.

THE CROWD
[
crying out and pushing]
.

Oh! Oh! We’re done for! Runaway!—

Every man for himself, I say!—

You there behind, get back, make way!—

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It’s spurting in my face, it’s hot!—

I’m crushed by the burning stick he’s got!—

Stand back, you mummer-mob, stand back!—

Make room, make room, you senseless pack!—

Now we’re all lost, now we’ll all die!—

Oh, give me wings, and off I’d fly!—

PLUTUS
. The encircling crowd must now retire;

They seem to have escaped the fire.

The mob takes fright,

They’re put to flight.

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But I must draw an unseen border

To guarantee this new-found order.

THE HERALD
. A splendid work you now fulfil,

Thanks to your power and your skill.

PLUTUS
. We must be patient, noble friend;

This tumult’s not yet at an end.

THE MISER.
, Now if we please, we may survey

This charming circle: once again,

As always, women take the forefront when

Some sweetmeat tempts or something’s on display.

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My rusting-up’s not yet complete,

A female beauty’s still a treat.

So off I’ll go and court some ladies;

And I’m in luck today—it’s
gratis
.

But with such crowds of people here,

Not every word is heard by every ear;

So I will use my arts, and mimically express

My meaning; this should bring me some success.

Hands, feet and gestures here are insufficient:

But in a ruder jest I’ll be proficient.

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My clay shall be this malleable gold,

For it’s a metal apt to every mould.

THE HERALD
. Our walking skeleton, what’s he up to now?

Has hunger made him humorous somehow?

He’s kneading all that gold like dough;

Between his hands it softens so.

He squeezes it: a lump, a ball

Shaped like no proper thing at all.

He shows it to the women: they

All shriek and try to run away,

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Making a great show of disgust.

The rogue shows malice in his lust:

The more he outrages decency,

I fear, the better pleased he’ll be.

This must not pass! Give me my stave!

I’ll drive him out, I’ll teach him to behave.

PLUTUS
. But now another threat draws near!

Leave him his antics; he has no idea

What’s coming. There’ll be no room for his fooling;

Law rules, but
force majeure
is overruling.

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TUMULT AND SINGING
.

The Wild Host comes from the high hills,

Out of the wooded glens it spills:

Who can withstand us now, who can

Resist? We honour our Great Pan.
*

A secret known to none we know;

The circle’s empty, in we go!

PLUTUS
. I know you well, and your Great Pan. Good speed

Together you have made. I know indeed

That secret known to few; respectfully

I loose the circle’s narrow boundary.—

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Now may good fortune still pursue them!

The strangest things may happen to them;

They cannot tell where now they tread,

For they have failed to look ahead.

WILD SINGING
. You dressed-up mob, parading vainly!

We come here bare, we come ungainly;

See how we run and leap so far,

How rough and rude and strong we are!

FAUNS
. Now fauns advance

In merry dance;

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In curly hair

Oak-leaves we wear,

Among our locks each pointed ear

Pricks up so neatly here and here,

Our nose is blunt, our face is broad:

All these are things that women applaud.

A girl will dance and be delighted

When by a faun’s paw she’s invited.

A SATYR
. Up pops the satyr now, complete

With scrawny haunches and goat’s feet;

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They must be lean and sinewy,

For like a mountain chamois, he

Delights in rocky heights to see

The world. Refreshed in freedom’s air,

He mocks all humankind from there:

Deep in their valleys’ steamy stew

They fancy they are living too,

But high above all taint and throng

Those regions to him alone belong.

GNOMES
. Here come the Little Folk, trip-trot;

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Not two by two, we’d rather not.

In moss-green smocks, with lamps aglow,

We helter-skelter to and fro,

Each of us doing his own thing,

Like glow-worms swarming, glimmering,