Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series
Page 210
Then from the fellow of gods — misery’s mate, to the man!
— Man henceforth and forever, who lent from the glow of his nature
Warmth to the cold, with light coloured the black and the blank.
So did a man conceive of your passion, you passion-protesters!
So did he trust, so love — being the truth of your lie! 90
You to aspire to be Man! Man made you who vainly would ape him:
You are the hoUowness, he — filling you, falsifies void.
Even as — witness the emblem, Hell’s sad triumph suspended,
Born of my tears, sweat, blood — bursting to vapour above —
Arching my torment, an iris ghostlike startles the darkness,
Cold white — jewelry quenched — justifies, glorifies pain.
Strive, my kind, though strife endure thro’ endless obstruction,
Stage after stage, each rise marred by as certain a fall!
Baffled forever — yet never so baffled but, e’en in the baffling,
When Man’s strength proves weak, checked in the body or soul — 100
Whatsoever the medium, flesh or essence, — Ixion’s
Made for a purpose of hate, — clothing the entity Thou,
— Medium whence that entity strives for the Not-Thou beyond it,
Fire elemental, free, frame unencumbered, the All, —
Never so baffled but — when, on the verge of an alien existence,
Heartened to press, by pangs burst to the infinite Pure,
Nothing is reached but the ancient weakness still that arrests strength,
Circumambient still, still the poor human array,
Pride and revenge and hate and cruelty — all it has burst through,
Thought to escape, — fresh formed, found in the fashion it fled, — 110
Never so baffled but — when Man pays the price of endeavour,
Thunderstruck, downthrust, Tartaros-doomed to the wheel, —
Then, ay, then, from the tears and sweat and blood of his torment,
E’en from the triumph of Hell, up let him look and rejoice!
What is the influence, high o’er Hell, that turns to a rapture
Pain — and despair’s murk mists blends in a rainbow of hope?
What is beyond the obstruction, stage by stage tho’ it baffle?
Back must I fall, confess “Ever the weakness I fled”?
No, for beyond, far, far is a Purity all-unobstructed!
Zeus was Zeus — not Man: wrecked by his weakness, I whirl. 120
Out of the wreck I rise — past Zeus to the Potency o’er him!
I — to have hailed him my friend! I — to have clasped her — my love!
Pallid birth of my pain, — where light, where light is, aspiring
Thither I rise, whilst thou — Zeus, keep the godship and sink!
Jochanan Hakkadosh
“This now, this other story makes amends
And justifies our Mishna,” quoth the Jew
Aforesaid. “Tell it, learnedest of friends!”
— — — — —
A certain morn broke beautiful and blue
O’er Schiphaz city, bringing joy and mirth,
— So had ye deemed; while the reverse was true,
Since one small house there gave a sorrow birth
In such black sort that, to each faithful eye,
Midnight, not morning settled on the earth.
How else, when it grew certain thou wouldst die, 10
Our much-enlightened master, Israel’s prop,
Eximious Jochanan Ben Sabbathai?
Old, yea, but, undiminished of a drop,
The vital essence pulsed through heart and brain;
Time left unsickled yet the plenteous crop
On poll and chin and cheek, whereof a skein
Handmaids might weave — hairs silk-soft, silver-white,
Such as the wool-plant’s; none the less in vain
Had Physic striven her best against the spite
Of fell disease: the Rabbi must succumb; 20
And, round the couch whereon in piteous plight
He lay a-dying, scholars, — awe-struck, dumb
Throughout the night-watch, — roused themselves and spoke
One to the other: “Ere death’s touch benumb
“His active sense, — while yet ‘neath Reason’s yoke
Obedient toils his tongue, — befits we claim
The fruit of long experience, bid this oak
“Shed us an acorn which may, all the same,
Grow to a temple-pillar, — dear that day! —
When Israel’s scattered seed finds place and name 30
“Among the envious nations. Lamp us, pray,
Thou the Knlightener! Partest hence in peace?
Hailest without regret — much less, dismay —
“The hour of thine approximate release
From fleshly bondage soul hath found obstruct?
Calmly envisagest the sure increase
“Of knowledge? Eden’s tree must hold unplucked
Some apple, sure, has never tried thy tooth,
Juicy with sapience thou hast sought, not sucked?
“Say, does agn acquiesce in vanished youth? 40
Still towers thy purity above — as erst —
Our pleasant follies? Be thy last word — truth!”
The Rabbi groaned; then, grimly, “Last as first
The truth speak I — in boyhood who began
Striving to live an angel, and, amerced
“For such presumption, die now hardly man.
What have I proved of life? To live, indeed,
That much I learned: but here lies Jochanan
“More luckless than stood David when, to speed
His fighting with the Philistine, they brought 50
Saul’s harness forth: whereat, ‘Alack, I need
“ ‘Armour to arm me, but have never fought
With sword and spear, nor tried to manage shield,
Proving arms’ use, as well-trained warrior ought.
“ ‘Only a sling and pebbles can I wield!’
So he: while I, contrariwise, ‘No trick
Of weapon helpful on the battle-field
“Comes unfamiliar to my theoric:
But, bid me put in practice what I know,
Give me a sword — it stings like Moses’ stick, 60
“ ‘A serpent I let drop apace.’ E’en so,
I, — able to comport me at each stage
Of human life as never here below
“Man played his part, — since mine the heritage
Of wisdom carried to that perfect pitch,
Ye rightly praise, — I therefore, who, thus sage,
“Could sure act man triumphantly, enrich
Life’s annals with example how I played
Lover, Bard, Soldier, Statist, — (all of which
“Parts in presentment failing, cries invade 70
The world’s ear — ’Ah, tbe Past, the pearl-gift thrown
To hogs, time’s opportunity we made
“ ‘So light of, only recognized when flown!
Had we been wise!’) — in fine, I — wise enough, —
What profit brings me wisdom never shown
“Just when its showing would from each rebuff
Shelter weak virtue, threaten back to bounds
Encroaching vice, tread smooth each track too rough
“For youth’s unsteady footstep, climb the rounds
Of life’s long ladder, one by slippery one, 80
Yet make no stumble? Me hard fate confounds
“With that same crowd of wailers I outrun
By promising to teach another cry
Of more hilarious mood than theirs, the sun
“I look my last at is insulted by.
What cry, — ye ask? Give ear on every side!
Witness yon Lover! ‘How entrapped am I!
&nb
sp; “ ‘Methought, because a virgin’s rose-lip vied
With ripe Khubbezleh’s, needs must beauty mate
With meekness and discretion in a bride: 90
“ ‘Bride she became to me who wail — too late —
Unwise I loved!’ That’s one cry. ‘Mind’s my gift:
I might have loaded me with lore, full weight
“ ‘Pressed down and running over at each rift
O’ the brain-bag where the famished clung and fed.
I filled it with what rubbish! — would not sift
“ ‘The wheat from chaff, sound grain from musty — shed
Poison abroad as oft as nutriment —
And sighing say but as my fellows said,
“ ‘Unwise I learned!’ That’s two. ‘In dwarf’s-play spent 100
Was giant’s prowess: warrior all unversed
In war’s right waging, I struck brand, was lent
“ ‘For steel’s fit service, on mere stone — and cursed
Alike the shocked limb and the shivered steel,
Seeing too late the blade’s true use which erst
“ ‘How was I blind to! My cry swells the peal —
Unwise I fought!’ That’s three. But wherefore waste
Breath on the wailings longer? Why reveal
“A root of bitterness whereof the taste
Is noisome to Humanity at large? 110
First we get Power, but Power absurdly placed
“In Folly’s keeping, who resigns her charge
To Wisdom when all Power grows nothing worth
Bones marrowless are mocked with helm and targe
“When, like your Master’s, soon below the earth
With worms shall warfare only be. Fare well,
Children! I die a failure since my birth!”
“Not so!” arose a protest as, pell-mell,
They pattered from his chamber to the street,
Bent on a last resource. Our Targums tell 120
That such resource there is. Put case, there meet
The Nine Points of Perfection — rarest chance —
Within some saintly teacher whom the fleet
Years, in their blind implacable advance,
O’ertake beforeflit teaching born of these
Have magnified his scholars’ countenance, —
If haply folk compassionating please
To render up — according to his store,
Each one — a portion of the life he sees
Hardly worth saving when ‘tis set before 130
Earth’s benefit should the Saint, Hakkadosh,
Favoured thereby, attain to full fourscore —
If such contribute (Scoffer, spare thy “Bosh!”)
A year, a month, a day, an hour — to eke
Life out, — in him away the gift shall wash
That much of ill-spent time recorded, streak
The twilight of the so-assisted sage
With a new sunrise: truth, though strange to speak!
Quick to the doorway, then, where youth and age,
All Israel, thronging, waited for the last 140
News of the loved one. “‘Tis the final stage:
“Art’s utmost done, the Rabbi’s feet tread fast
The way of all flesh!” So announced that apt
Olive-branch Tsaddik: “Yet, O Brethren, cast
“No eye to earthward! Look where heaven has clapped
Morning’s extinguisher — yon ray-shot robe
Of sun-threads — on the constellation mapped
“And mentioned by our Elders, — yea, from Job
Down to Satam, — as figuring forth — what?
Perpend a mystery! Ye call it Dob, 150
“ ‘The Bear’: I trow, a wiser name than that
Were Aisch — ’The Bier’: a corpse those four stars hold,
Which — are not those Three Daughters weeping at,
“Banoth? I judge so: list while I unfold
The reason. As in twice twelve hours this Bier
Goes and returns, about the East-cone rolled,
“So may a setting luminary here
Be rescued from extinction, rolled anew
Upon its track of labour, strong and clear,
“About the Pole — that Salem, every Jew 160
Helps to build up when thus he saves some Saint
Ordained its architect. Ye grasp the clue
“To all ye seek? The Rabbi’s lamp-flame faint
Sinks: would ye raise it? Lend then life from yours,
Spare each his oil-drop! Do I need acquaint
“The Chosen how self-sacrifice ensures
Tenfold requital? — urge ye emulate
The fame of those Old Just Ones death procures
“Such praise for, that ‘tis now men’s sole debate
Which of the Ten who volunteered at Rome 170
To die for glory to our Race, was great
“Beyond his fellows? Was it thou — the comb
Of iron carded, flesh from bone, away,
While thy lips sputtered thro’ their bloody foam
“Without a stoppage (O brave Akiba!)
‘Hear, Israel, our Lord God is One’? Or thou,
Jischab? — who smiledst, burning, since there lay,
“Burning along with thee, our Law! I trow,
Such martyrdom might tax flesh to afford:
While that for which I make petition now, 180
“To what amounts it? Youngster, wilt thou hoard
Each minute of long years thou look’st to spend
In dalliance with thy spouse? Hast thou so soared,
“Singer of songs, all out of sight of friend
And teacher, warbling like a woodland bird,
There’s left no Selah, ‘twixt two psalms, to lend
“Our late-so-tuneful quirist? Thou, averred
The fighter born to plant our lion-flag
Once more on Zion’s mount, — doth, all-unheard,
“My pleading fail to move thee? Toss some rag 190
Shall staunch our wound, some minute never missed
From swordsman’s lustihood like thine! Wilt lag
“In liberal bestowment, show close fist
When open palm we look for, — thou, wide-known
For statecraft? whom, ‘tis said, an if thou list,
“The Shah himself would seat beside his throne.
So valued were advice from thee” . . . But here
He stopped short: such a hubbub! Not alone
From those addressed, but far as well as near
The crowd broke into clamour: “Mine, mine, mine — 200
Lop from my life the excrescence, never fear!
“At me thou lookedst, markedst me! Assign
To me that privilege of granting life —
Mine, mine!” Then he: “Be patient! I combine
“The needful portions only, wage no strife
With Nature’s law nor seek to lengthen out
The Rabbi’s day unduly. ‘Tis the knife
“I stop, — would cut its thread too short. About
As much as helps life last the proper term,
The appointed Fourscore, — that I crave, and scout 210
“A too-prolonged existence. Let the worm
Change at fit season to the butterfly!
And here a story strikes me, to confirm
“This judgment. Of our worthies, none ranks high
As Perida who kept the famous school:
None rivalled him in patience: none! For why?
“In lecturing it was his constant rule,
Whatever he expounded, to repeat
— Ay, and keep on repeating, lest some fool
“Should fail to understand him fully — (feat 220
Unparalleled, Uzzean!) — do ye mark? —
Five hundred times! So might he entrance beat
“For knowledge into howsoever dark
And dense
the brain-pan. Yet it happed, at close
Of one especial lecture, not one spark
“Of light was found to have illumed the rows
Of pupils round their pedagogue. ‘What, still
Impenetrable to me? Then — here goes!’
“And for a second time he sets the rill
Of knowledge running, and five hundred times 230
More re-repeats the matter — and gains nil.
“Out broke a voice from heaven: ‘Thy patience climbs
Even thus high. Choose! Wilt thou, rather, quick
Ascend to bliss — or, since thy zeal sublimes
“ ‘Such drudgery, will thy back still bear its crick,
Bent o’er thy class, — thy voice drone spite of drouth, —
Five hundred years more at thy desk wilt stick?’
“ ‘To heaven with me!’ was in the good man’s mouth,
When all his scholars — cruel-kind were they! —
Stopped utterance, from East, West, North and South, 240
“Rending the welkin with their shout of ‘Nay —
No heaven as yet for our instructor! Grant
Five hundred years on earth for Perida!’
“And so long did he keep instructing! Want
Our Master no such misery! I but take
Three months of life marital. Ministrant
“Be thou of so much, Poet! Bold I make,
Swordsman, with thy frank offer! — and conclude,
Statist, with thine! One year, — ye will not shake
“My purpose to accept no more. So rude? 250
The very boys and girls, forsooth, must press
And proffer their addition? Thanks! The mood
“Is laudable, but I reject, no less,
One month, week, day of life more. Leave my gown,
Ye overbold ones! Your life’s gift, you guess,
“Were good as any? Rudesby, get thee down!
Set my feet free, or fear my staff! Farewell,
Seniors and saviours, sharers of renown
“With Jochanan henceforward!” Straightway fell
Sleep on the sufferer; who awoke in health, 260
Hale everyway, so potent was the spell.
— — — — —
O the rare Spring-time! Who is he by stealth
Approaches Jochanan? — embowered that sits
Under his vine and figtree mid the wealth
Of garden-sights and sounds, since intermits
Never the turtle’s coo, nor stays nor stints
The rose her smell. In homage that befits
The musing Master, Tsaddik, see, imprints
A kiss on the extended foot, low bends
Forehead to earth, then, all-obsequious, hints 270
“What if it should be time? A period ends —
That of the Lover’s gift — his quarter-year