Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated) (635 page)

THE FACE OF THE NIGH
T

A PASTORAL

The men of Gnossos have a legend that a man lying all night in the marshes near that town may see a face looking down upon him out of the sky. Such a man shall ever after be consumed with a longing to see again that face. In pursuit of it he shall abandon his home, his flocks and his duty to the State. And such men are accounted blasphemers because they infect others with this fever and are harmful to the republic.

[A wide, stony plain
,
the bed of a river, but dry and brown because it is the heart of summer. Towards sunset. In the distance against the sky there rise the columns of a deserted temple and of poplar trees with, at their bases, a tangle of rosebushes and of underwood among fallen stones. To the right, far off, is a rocky bluff, purple against the evening: at its foot, very clear and small, are large fallen rocks round a green pool and spreading and shadowy trees. Small fires glimmer here. To the left the plain opens out towards the horizon, wide, suave and level; at the verge is a shimmer of the broad curve of the river. In the foreground a young man lies upon two fleeces. A fillet has fallen from his hair, his limbs are a golden brown, he has a leopard skin about his loins. His hands are clasped behind his head, he looks up into the western sky, his eye searching for the first planet to shine. Over the plain from the sunset and from the sheepfolds in the shadow of the bluff, young girls and shepherds come forwards him in knots. Some play upon pipes, others cry out from band to band, a horn sounds faintly with a guttural intonation. A dog’s bark winds sharply from a distance, and there is a continual drone of gnats in the still air.

THE YOUNG MAN (
listlessly
).
I HAVE seen the Night with her hair gemm’d with stars,
With her smile the Milky Way, and her locks the darker bars
Of the heavens —

THE SHEPHERDS AND THE YOUNG GIRLS.
Oh, come away,
For Lalagé is thine.

HE.
With her pale face of stars
I have seen her.

THEY.
Rise! The shine
Of the owl-light’s on the pools,
And the hinds bring skins of wine,
And the hot day cools
To its close.
[
The drone of the pipes and the quivering of strings
still sound as others come across the plain. They
come closer
,
and
,
standing round, obscure the sky from him.

HE (
rising on one elbow
).
Ah! still your pipes, still the cyther
string that jars,
For I have seen the Night with her face of stars.

THE MEN.
Rise up and quit these places, for in shadows Lalagé
Awaits thee.

THE GIRLS.
Quit your fleeces, for in the shadows we
In the light of nuptial torches where the poplars bar the sky,
Thro’ the rocks around the pool, thro’ the hyacinths shall...

HE.
I have seen, have seen....

AN OLD MAN
(hastening upon them,.
Why never,
Quit these places full of fever.

HE.
I saw a face look downwards
Thro’ the stars.

OLD MAN.
No, never, never.

HE.
I did see...

OLD MAN
[seeking to drown his voice).
Mists from the river.

A YOUNG GIRL’S VOICE
[she sings as she comes along).
When he comes from seawards,
When he comes from townwards,
My love sings to me words
That my heart likes well.

THE MEN (
to him).
We will bear thee on our shoulders
Through the covert-sides and boulders
With thy fleeces for a litter.

THE GIRLS.
Unto where the watch-fires glitter
On our shoulders we will bear thee
To where Lalagé shall rear thee
‘Twixt her breasts.

HE.
A face looked downwards,
And I thirst, I thirst, am thirsting.

THE OLD MAN (
in a threatening whisper).
Close thy lips on this for ever.
This is blasphemy.’Twould sever
Life and love and earth from gladness.
Close thy lips. I know this madness.
I am ancient.

HE.
I am thirsting.

A YOUNG MAN.
Thy Lalagé’s eyes are pools of rest,
Thy Lalagé’s lips are sweet warm grapes
I would it were mine to taste and taste.

A YOUNG GIRL.
And thy Lalagé’s heart is bursting.

THE YOUNG MAN.
I would it were mine to sink and sink
Between her breasts like hills of wine.
I would it were mine
To taste her lips,
And to clasp her hips and to clasp her waist,
And to drink her breath and to be the first
To...

HE.
Thirst. I thirst.

TWO GIRLS (
with horns slung from their shoulders).
Here is milk. Here wine.
Begone and send me that wind to drink
That cools its flood on the glacier’s brink,
Send me that wind.

THE OLD MAN (
persuasively
).
Thy Lalagé is grown kind:
Sighs fill the air near her, and from her eyes,
Where low she lies upon the filmy fleeces,
Bright tears down fall into the milk-white creases,
And warm, dark valleys of her snowy kirtle.
And loosely tied her girdle....

A HIND
[running in on them).
Thy white ewe hath burst her hurdle,
Thy grey bitch hath tree’d a leopard,
Shepherd, shepherd,
Thy black heifer’s milk doth curdle.
He
(with a weary and passionate gesture of disgust).
I am sick of sheep and shepherds.

THE MEN.
Thou hast led us in the wars!

THE GIRLS.
And the fairest of us maidens opens out to you her arms.
Round her feet the grasses whisper, round her head
the firefly swarms
Form a beacon, you shall harbour in her soft, warm arms.

HE.
I did see a face with for hair the darker bars
Of the heavens....

THE GIRLS
(seeking to dromon his voice).
We’ll go dancing where the torchlights meet
With the lances of the starlight and the grove is shadowiest,
Showing here a foam-white shoulder, white-waved
arm and red lit breast,
As the harebells brush our ankles till our loves caress our feet,
Burnt-out torches, rustling silence, and the night
wind’s faint and fleet.

HE
(turning upon his elbow towards the men).
I shall lead you with your lances when you face the men of Hather?
I must voice you in the counsels of the aged king, my father?
I shall lead the ships to seawards, I must guard the
flocks from townwards?
(To the girls)
I must bed your fairest maidens that the rest may
dance in cadence?
So that wine may flow in plenty, so your loves and you content ye,
Whilst with chitons loose on shoulders in the twilight of the boulders.
And in secret dells....
Ye wantons! I have seen a face look downwards,
Pure and passionless and distant where with stars
the pure sky teemeth.

THE OLD MAN.
He blasphemeth, he blasphemeth.

HE.
I am sick of vine-wreathed barrels,
Sick of lances, arrows, quarrels,
Sick of tracking in the dew,
Of their limbs, and breasts, and you —
I have seen that face of faces,
I have thought the utter thought.
[He rises to his feet.
I go to seek in desert places.

[
Whilst he speaks the men heave up stones to throw at
him. The girls shake their hands and cry out. He
silences them, shaking his fist. The
OLD MAN
runs
about behind whispering to one and another.

[To the Girls.)
All your sun-tanned arms are nought,
All their lances and your dances,
Nought and nought.... And I must wander
Past the mountains of Iskander
Past the salt-glazed lakes of Meinë,
Past Pahân mist-veiled and rainy,
Whither? Whither? Ah, my Fortune?
Seeking her, I must importune
All the icy ghosts of souls
That died of frost, and all the ghouls
That feed in battle-clouds,
The fiery spirits in the shrouds
Above volcanoes and the spirits of the dawn
That sing in choirs. And where the caverns yawn
Which let out sleep, and death, and shame, and leprosy
Upon this earth, you may find trace of me
But here no more.

THE OLD MAN.
Blasphemy! Blasphemy!
He doth contemn this godlike life of ours.

THE GIRLS.
Blasphemy! Blasphemy!
He doth condemn our warm, sweet midnight hours.

HE
(moving away from the plain).
I must go seek her on the icy rocks,
Frost in my blood or flame about my head,
Calling and calling where the echo mocks,
Crying in the midnights where the ocean moans
White in the darkness —
[A man casts a great stone that strikes him on the
shoulder. He falls on to one knee.
Fool, though I be dead
All here is nothing, but in her fair places
My shade shall find her wisdom.

THE GIRLS.
Stones! Cast stones!
[A shower of stones strikes him down. He cries from the ground.

All here is nothing. Whilst each mountain traces
Shadows half-circling from every worthless dawn,
My shade shall trace her to her twilit portal,
Then, on a hill-top, on a shadowy lawn,
Plain in the dew her footsteps!

THE OLD MAN
(striking a lance through his side
),
Dead!

HE
[gasping).
Immortal
Goddess! Wisdom! Face o’Night! Beyond the twilight bars ——
[He dies.

THE OLD MAN
(striking the spear through him again).
Cast stones!

THE GIRLS
(to the men).
Cast stones!
[They gather stones in their skirts and drop them in
great number on to the body
,
until it has the resemblance of a cairn. Whilst they hurry about the
OLD MAN
speaks to any that will listen to him.
For that this was a Prince raise him a tomb,
Casting your stones on it. In sun nor gloom
Come never here again.... Here shall be moans
And whisperings of blasphemy to hear were doom —
Cast there, stones there, above his lips that lied.
So be his name forgotten.... Never a word
From henceforth of his dying. This true lance
That slew him shall be burnt — Never a word,
Never a word of him again.... But dance,
Choose a new mate for Lalagé’s soft side
This night. Yes there, above his lips that lied.
[
They begin to disperse.

A YOUNG GIRL.
I would he had kissed me ere he died.

THE OLD MAN
(shaking his head misgivingly, to
another old man).
You heard?
[
They all go away over the plain in groups of two
and three; the poplars and the ruined temple have
disappeared into the last light: the white garments
have blue and purple shadows and the evening star
shakes out brilliant rays in the dusky sky.

THE VOICE OF A YOUNG GIRL
(singing in the
distance).
When he conies from seawards,
When he comes from townwards,
My love sings to me words
That my heart likes well.

[The night wind sweeps down; the watch-fires at the
foot of the hills spring up as if they had been replenished and waver along the wind. It reaches the
cairn of stones and runs with a sifting sound
among the dry grasses around. It continues through the night.

A MASQUE OF THE TIMES O’ DA
Y

(A FRAGMENT)

The Persons of the Masque:
The
DAWN
that shall wear a saffron gown, and in her hair daffodils.
HIGH NOON
that shall wear a golden dress and necklets of amber.
EVENTIDE
that shall be habited in grey and have glow-worms on her brow.
NIGHT
that shall be dressed in black with a coronal of stars and the crescent moon.

The Scene shall be a hilltop, high in air, with the blue sky painted fair on the backcloths. There shall be a great gilt framework Sphere of the Universe, set with jewels for the stars
,
and with the Signs of the Zodiac. It shall revolve slowly, and within shall sit the
DAWN, HIGH NOON
and others. In its centre there shall be a great Globe of the Earth with the lands and the seas fairly marked. Round about it shall go one score and four men bearing the four-and-twenty torches of the Hours. Without, shall stand a
Man
and a
Woman.
A
Chorus
habited like a reverend old man shalt enter and shall tell how that the Times of Day, being weary of long contentions for the Dominion of the earth
,
have set this
Man
and this
Woman
to choose which of these four shall have sole Empire. The Music shall sound, and when it shall have ceased, the
DAWN
shall step forth from the Sphere as it revolves and shall say:

I AM the Dawn, beloved by those that watch.
Then
HIGH NOON:
I am the Noon, beloved by those that toil.

Then Eventide.

I am the Eve, beloved by those that tire.
Then
THE NIGHT:
I am the Night beloved by them that love.
Then shall those four dance together until the
DAWN
stands forth from among them and sings:
I am the Dawn, beloved by those that watch,
I come a-creeping, I come a-stealing
Over eastern mountains, over dewy lawns,
Pale, golden, slender, pale and very tender,
Unto you who’ve watched the night through hoping for the dawn’s
Rise to usher Hope back.
A dance again
,
and then
HIGH NOON
shall sing:
I am High Noon, beloved by those that toil.
I bring your resting times, ring your midday feasting chimes,
Pan’s hour that brings you panting to the hedgerows,
Dalliance in the river rushes,
In the shadows and deep hushes,
Over bee-filled beds of potherbs, over bird-filled,
quivering woodlands,
Blessed rest in summer days, surcease ‘neath the
Summer haze.
A dance again
,
and in her turn the
EVENTIDE
shall sing:
I am the Eve, beloved by those that tire.
All along the sunken lanes
And across the parching plains
I set dewy winds a-blowing,
Bring the cattle byrewards, lowing;
Bring the bats out, lure the owls out, lure the twilight
beasts and fowls out;
Bid a broadening path of moonbeams hunt the
homing smacks from seaward,
Flitting past the harbour lanthorns, trailing in a
flight to leeward;
Set the harbour tumult rounding up the misty windings of the mountains;
Set my tiny horns a-sounding by the rillets, by the
woodland fountains...
Tiny, tiny gnat-horns sounding in an intermitting cadence,
Cry, “Stroll homewards men and maidens,
Done is done and over’s over,
Leave the wheatfields, quit the clover,
Masters, hired ones, all you tired ones,
Troop along the dog-rose lanes, troop across the misty plains,
Done is done... is done, and over’s over.”

The
Night shall
step forward and shall catch at the arm
of the Eve. Then shall
NIGHT
say:
(To the Eve)
Enough, enough,
You steal too many of my silent hours...
(To the Alan and the Woman
) I am the Night beloved
by them that love
As you do love.

I am that Night
That was in the beginning, I am she
That shall be the end... You come from me
And hasten back to me, and all the rest
Is shadow.

     
What’s the Dawn?
The shadow of a dream... And what High Noon?
A vague unrest, a shadow on your slumbers...
And ling’ring Eve has shadows in her hair,
The shadows of a shadow...She’s a thief
That steals my attributes, and is beloved
Because she is my shadow.
     
I am Truth,
A darkness, a soft darkness. And in that
Is all that’s worth the seeing. In my arms
Is all that’s worth the having. I’m august
But tender... tender... Oh, you mortal things,
That pass from Night to Night, from womb to womb
I am the best.
     
She sings.
Over my grasses go, for a little while
I’ll bid my flowers breathe their faint night scents.
For a little while
Go close together, straining lip to lip,
Go close together, straining heart to heart,
For a little while... for all the time you have.
     
She speaks again.
The soft warm darkness shall hang overhead,
The great white planets wheel from the horizon,
You shall not know the nakedness of shame,
Nor know at all of sorrow on the earth,
The while I hang above you with the face
Of a wan mother, white with light of stars.
     
She sings again.
Over my grasses go for a little while,
Hearing no sound, seeing no sight of earth,
For a little while
Cling close together, straining lip to lip,
Cling close together, straining breast to breast,
For a little while... for all the time you have...

(She speaks very low, as if to herself.)
And at the last
A wind shall sigh among my whispering grasses,
The planets fail behind a brooding cloud,
Your eyelids shall fall down upon your eyes
And it shall be the end...

She sings as if triumphantly
.
Under my grasses lie for the rest of time,
Hearing no sound, thinking no thought of earth,
For the rest of time.
Lie close together, silent, ear to ear,
Lie close together, slumb’ring hand in hand,
For the rest of time, for all the time you have.

Then shall men unseen in the roof of the hall hoist
out of sight the gilt Sphere of the Zodiac
,
and there
shall be disclosed a great globe of the Earth which had
been hid within the other. Then shall the four Times
of Day Dance a solemn measure round the globe to the
sound of music. There shall be sundry devices. As that,
there shall come a Woman called the Autumn habited
in russet and garlanded with streamers of berries of
the hawthorn. And this Autumn would have the Times
of Day observe a nice distance
,
equal one from the other,
a?id a flight of the birds called starlings shall be set free.
Then shall a reverend man dressed in furs, and bearing
a heavy burden of thorns cut faggot wise, enter. He shall
be the Winter
,
and shall dispute with the Autumn as
to the manner of the dance. He shall wish the
DAWN
and
the
EVE
to stand nearer
HIGH NOON.
And he shall
prevail
,
and a flight of great wood doves shall cross the
hall. And in like manner shall come the Spring and
the Summer each with their due attributes. These last
four shall foin hands and dance round about the limes
of Day. Then shall come men to the number of the cycles
that have passed since the year of our Lord’s birth, and
shall dance a solemn measure round them all. And a
salvo of musquetoons shall be shot off without
,
beneath
the windows of the hall. And when the dance is ended

The End Piece shall be sung
—
 
What if we say:
 
“These too shall pass away.”
 
Whether we say it
 
Now, or delay it
 
How we may,
 
 
These too shall pass away.