Poems, Victor Hugo [highly recommended books TXT] 📗

THE FLOOR.

This is the scene on which now enters in Eviradnus; and follows page Gasclin.

The outer walls were almost all decayed, The door, for ancient Marquises once made— Raised many steps above the courtyard near— Commanded view of the horizon clear. The forest looked a great gulf all around, And on the rock of Corbus there were found Secret and blood-stained precipices tall. Duke Plato built the tower and banquet hall Over great pits,—so was it Rumor said. The flooring sounds ‘neath Eviradnus’ tread Above abysses many.

“Page,” said he, “Come here, your eyes than mine can better see, For sight is woman-like and shuns the old; Ah! he can see enough, when years are told, Who backwards looks. But, boy, turn towards the glade And tell me what you see.”

The boy obeyed, And leaned across the threshold, while the bright, Full moon shed o’er the glade its white, pure light.

“I see a horse and woman on it now,” Said Gasclin, “and companions also show.” “Who are they?” asked the seeker of sublime Adventures. “Sir, I now can hear like chime The sound of voices, and men’s voices too, Laughter and talk; two men there are in view, Across the road the shadows clear I mark Of horses three.”

“Enough. Now, Gasclin, hark!” Exclaimed the knight, “you must at once return By other path than that which you discern, So that you be not seen. At break of day Bring back our horses fresh, and every way Caparisoned; now leave me, boy, I say.” The page looked at his master like a son, And said, “Oh! if I might stay on, For they are two.”

 

“Go—I suffice alone!”

X.

EVIRADNUS MOTIONLESS.

And lone the hero is within the hall, And nears the table where the glasses all Show in profusion; all the vessels there, Goblets and glasses gilt, or painted fair, Are ranged for different wines with practised care. He thirsts; the flagons tempt; but there must stay One drop in emptied glass, and ‘twould betray The fact that some one living had been here. Straight to the horses goes he, pauses near That which is next the table shining bright, Seizes the rider—plucks the phantom knight To pieces—all in vain its panoply And pallid shining to his practised eye; Then he conveys the severed iron remains To corner of the hall where darkness reigns; Against the wall he lays the armor low In dust and gloom like hero vanquished now— But keeping pond’rous lance and shield so old, Mounts to the empty saddle, and behold! A statue Eviradnus has become, Like to the others in their frigid home. With visor down scarce breathing seemed maintained Throughout the hall a death-like silence reigned.

XI.

A LITTLE MUSIC.

Listen! like hum froth unseen nests we hear A mirthful buzz of voices coming near, Of footsteps—laughter—from the trembling trees. And now the thick-set forest all receives A flood of moonlight—and there gently floats The sound of a guitar of Inspruck; notes Which blend with chimes—vibrating to the hand— Of tiny bell—where sounds a grain of sand. A man’s voice mixes with the melody, And vaguely melts to song in harmony.

 

“If you like we’ll dream a dream.

Let us mount on palfreys two;

Birds are singing,—let it seem

You lure me—and I take you.

 

“Let us start—‘tis eve, you see,

I’m thy master and thy prey.

My bright steed shall pleasure be;

Yours, it shall be love, I say.

 

“Journeying leisurely we go,

We will make our steeds touch heads,

Kiss for fodder,—and we so

Satisfy our horses’ needs.

 

“Come! the two delusive things

Stamp impatiently it seems,

Yours has heavenward soaring wings,

Mine is of the land of dreams.

 

“What’s our baggage? only vows,

Happiness, and all our care,

And the flower that sweetly shows

Nestling lightly in your hair.

 

“Come, the oaks all dark appear,

Twilight now will soon depart,

Railing sparrows laugh to hear

Chains thou puttest round my heart.

 

“Not my fault ‘twill surely be

If the hills should vocal prove,

And the trees when us they see,

All should murmur—let us love!

 

“Oh, be gentle!—I am dazed,

See the dew is on the grass,

Wakened butterflies amazed

Follow thee as on we pass.

 

“Envious night-birds open wide

Their round eyes to gaze awhile,

Nymphs that lean their urns beside

From their grottoes softly smile,

 

“And exclaim, by fancy stirred,

‘Hero and Leander they;

We in listening for a word

Let our water fall away.’

 

“Let us journey Austrian way,

With the daybreak on our brow;

I be great, and you I say

Rich, because we love shall know.

 

“Let us over countries rove,

On our charming steeds content,

In the azure light of love,

And its sweet bewilderment.

 

“For the charges at our inn,

You with maiden smiles shall pay;

I the landlord’s heart will win

In a scholar’s pleasant way.

 

“You, great lady—and I, Count—

Come, my heart has opened quite,

We this tale will still recount,

To the stars that shine at night.”

The melody went on some moments more Among the trees the calm moon glistened o’er, Then trembled and was hushed; the voice’s thrill Stopped like alighting birds, and all was still.

XII.

GREAT JOSS AND LITTLE ZENO.

Quite suddenly there showed across the door, Three heads which all a festive aspect wore. Two men were there; and, dressed in cloth of gold, A woman. Of the men one might have told Some thirty years, the other younger seemed, Was tall and fair, and from his shoulder gleamed A gay guitar with ivy leaves enlaced. The other man was dark, but pallid-faced And small. At the first glance they seemed to be But made of perfume and frivolity. Handsome they were, but through their comely mien A grinning demon might be clearly seen. April has flowers where lurk the slugs between.

“Big Joss and little Zeno, pray come here; Look now—how dreadful! can I help but fear!” Madame Mahaud was speaker. Moonlight there Caressingly enhanced her beauty rare, Making it shine and tremble, as if she So soft and gentle were of things that be Of air created, and are brought and ta’en By heavenly flashes. Now, she spoke again “Certes, ‘tis heavy purchase of a throne, To pass the night here utterly alone. Had you not slyly come to guard me now, I should have died of fright outright I know.” The moonbeams through the open door did fall, And shine upon the figure next the wall.

Said Zeno, “If I played the Marquis part, I’d send this rubbish to the auction mart; Out of the heap should come the finest wine, Pleasure and gala-fêtes, were it all mine.” And then with scornful hand he touched the thing, And made the metal like a soul’s cry ring. He laughed—the gauntlet trembled at his stroke. “Let rest my ancestors”—‘twas Mahaud spoke; Then murmuring added she, “For you are much Too small their noble armor here to touch.”

And Zeno paled, but Joss with laugh exclaimed, “Why, all these good black men so grandly named Are only nests for mice. By Jove, although They lifelike look and terrible, we know What is within; just listen, and you’ll hear The vermins’ gnawing teeth, yet ‘twould appear These figures once were proudly named Otho, And Ottocar, and Bela, and Plato. Alas! the end’s not pleasant—puts one out; To have been kings and dukes—made mighty rout— Colossal heroes filling tombs with slain, And, Madame, this to only now remain; A peaceful nibbling rat to calmly pierce A prince’s noble armor proud and fierce.”

“Sing, if you will—but do not speak so loud; Besides, such things as these,” said fair Mahaud, “In your condition are not understood.” “Well said,” made answer Zeno, “‘tis a place Of wonders—I see serpents, and can trace Vampires, and monsters swarming, that arise In mist, through chinks, to meet the gazer’s eyes.”

Then Mahaud shuddered, and she said: “The wine The Abbé made me drink as task of mine, Will soon enwrap me in the soundest sleep— Swear not to leave me—that you here will keep.” “I swear,” cried Joss, and Zeno, “I also; But now at once to supper let us go.”

XIII.

THEY SUP.

With laugh and song they to the table went. Said Mahaud gayly: “It is my intent To make Joss chamberlain. Zeno shall be A constable supreme of high degree.” All three were joyous, and were fair to see. Joss ate—and Zeno drank; on stools the pair, With Mahaud musing in the regal chair. The sound of separate leaf we do not note— And so their babble seemed to idly float, And leave no thought behind. Now and again Joss his guitar made trill with plaintive strain Or Tyrolean air; and lively tales they told Mingled with mirth all free, and frank, and bold. Said Mahaud: “Do you know how fortunate You are?” “Yes, we are young at any rate— Lovers half crazy—this is truth at least.” “And more, for you know Latin like a priest, And Joss sings well.”

“Ah, yes, our master true, Yields us these gifts beyond the measure due.” “Your master!—who is he?” Mahaud exclaimed. “Satan, we say—but Sin you’d think him named,” Said Zeno, veiling words in raillery. “Do not laugh thus,” she said with dignity; “Peace, Zeno. Joss, you speak, my chamberlain.” “Madame, Viridis, Countess of Milan, Was deemed superb; Diana on the mount Dazzled the shepherd boy; ever we count The Isabel of Saxony so fair, And Cleopatra’s beauty all so rare— Aspasia’s, too, that must with theirs compare— That praise of them no fitting language hath. Divine was Rhodope—and Venus’ wrath Was such at Erylesis’ perfect throat, She dragged her to the forge where Vulcan smote Her beauty on his anvil. Well, as much As star transcends a sequin, and just such As temple is to rubbish-heap, I say, You do eclipse their beauty every way. Those airy sprites that from the azure smile, Peris and elfs the while they men beguile, Have brows less youthful pure than yours; besides Dishevelled they whose shaded beauty hides In clouds.”

“Flatt’rer,” said Mahaud, “you but sing Too well.”

Then Joss more homage sought to bring; “If I were angel under heav’n,” said he, “Or girl or demon, I would seek to be By you instructed in all art and grace, And as in school but take a scholar’s place. Highness, you are a fairy bright, whose hand For sceptre vile gave up your proper wand.” Fair Mahaud mused—then said, “Be silent now; You seem to watch me; little ‘tis I know, Only that from Bohemia Joss doth come, And that in Poland Zeno hath his home. But you amuse me; I am rich, you poor— What boon shall I confer and make secure? What gift? ask of me, poets, what you will And I will grant it—promise to fulfil.” “A kiss,” said Joss.

“A kiss!” and anger fraught Amazed at minstrel having such a thought— While flush of indignation warmed her cheek. “You do forget to whom it is you speak,” She cried.

“Had I not known your high degree, Should I have asked this royal boon,” said he, “Obtained or given, a kiss must ever be. No gift like king’s—no kiss like that of queen!” Queen! And on Mahaud’s face a smile was seen.

XIV.

AFTER SUPPER.

But now the potion proved its subtle power, And Mahaud’s heavy eyelids ‘gan to lower. Zeno, with finger on his lip, looked on— Her head next drooped, and consciousness was gone. Smiling she slept, serene and very fair, He took her hand, which fell all unaware.

“She sleeps,” said Zeno, “now let chance or fate Decide for us which has the marquisate, And which the girl.”

 

Upon their faces now A hungry tiger’s look began to show. “My brother, let us speak like men