I find you here but in the second place, Some say the third--the authentic foundress you.
I offer boldly: we will seat you highest:
Wink at our advent: help my prince to gain His rightful bride, and here I promise you Some palace in our land, where you shall reign The head and heart of all our fair she-world, And your great name flow on with broadening time For ever." Well, she balanced this a little, And told me she would answer us today, meantime be mute: thus much, nor more I gained.'
He ceasing, came a message from the Head.
'That afternoon the Princess rode to take The dip of certain strata to the North.
Would we go with her? we should find the land Worth seeing; and the river made a fall Out yonder:' then she pointed on to where A double hill ran up his furrowy forks Beyond the thick-leaved platans of the vale.
Agreed to, this, the day fled on through all Its range of duties to the appointed hour.
Then summoned to the porch we went. She stood Among her maidens, higher by the head, Her back against a pillar, her foot on one Of those tame leopards. Kittenlike he rolled And pawed about her sandal. I drew near;I gazed. On a sudden my strange seizure came Upon me, the weird vision of our house:
The Princess Ida seemed a hollow show, Her gay-furred cats a painted fantasy, Her college and her maidens, empty masks, And I myself the shadow of a dream, For all things were and were not. Yet I felt My heart beat thick with passion and with awe;Then from my breast the involuntary sigh Brake, as she smote me with the light of eyes That lent my knee desire to kneel, and shook My pulses, till to horse we got, and so Went forth in long retinue following up The river as it narrowed to the hills.
I rode beside her and to me she said:
'O friend, we trust that you esteemed us not Too harsh to your companion yestermorn;Unwillingly we spake.' 'No--not to her,'
I answered, 'but to one of whom we spake Your Highness might have seemed the thing you say.'
'Again?' she cried, 'are you ambassadresses From him to me? we give you, being strange, A license: speak, and let the topic die.'
I stammered that I knew him--could have wished--'Our king expects--was there no precontract?
There is no truer-hearted--ah, you seem All he prefigured, and he could not see The bird of passage flying south but longed To follow: surely, if your Highness keep Your purport, you will shock him even to death, Or baser courses, children of despair.'
'Poor boy,' she said, 'can he not read--no books?
Quoit, tennis, ball--no games? nor deals in that Which men delight in, martial exercise?
To nurse a blind ideal like a girl, Methinks he seems no better than a girl;As girls were once, as we ourself have been:
We had our dreams; perhaps he mixt with them:
We touch on our dead self, nor shun to do it, Being other--since we learnt our meaning here, To lift the woman's fallen divinity Upon an even pedestal with man.'
She paused, and added with a haughtier smile 'And as to precontracts, we move, my friend, At no man's beck, but know ourself and thee, O Vashti, noble Vashti! Summoned out She kept her state, and left the drunken king To brawl at Shushan underneath the palms.'
'Alas your Highness breathes full East,' I said, 'On that which leans to you. I know the Prince, I prize his truth: and then how vast a work To assail this gray pre雖inence of man!
You grant me license; might I use it? think;Ere half be done perchance your life may fail;Then comes the feebler heiress of your plan, And takes and ruins all; and thus your pains May only make that footprint upon sand Which old-recurring waves of prejudice Resmooth to nothing: might I dread that you, With only Fame for spouse and your great deeds For issue, yet may live in vain, and miss, Meanwhile, what every woman counts her due, Love, children, happiness?'
And she exclaimed, 'Peace, you young savage of the Northern wild!
What! though your Prince's love were like a God's, Have we not made ourself the sacrifice?
You are bold indeed: we are not talked to thus:
Yet will we say for children, would they grew Like field-flowers everywhere! we like them well:
But children die; and let me tell you, girl, Howe'er you babble, great deeds cannot die;They with the sun and moon renew their light For ever, blessing those that look on them.