CANTO VII

Chapter 71,920 wordsPublic domain

The host had trimmed his lamp. The downy moth Came from the garden. Where the lamplight shed Its circle of smooth white upon the cloth, Down mid the rinds of fruit and broken bread, Upon his sprawling arms lay Dymer’s head; And often, as he dreamed, he shifted place, Muttering and showing half his drunken face.

The beating stillness of the dead of night Flooded the room. The dark and sleepy powers Settled upon the house and filled it quite; Far from the roads it lay, from belfry towers And hen-roosts, in a world of folded flowers, Buried in loneliest fields where beasts that love The silence through the unrustled hedgegrows move.

Now from the Master’s lips there breathed a sigh As of a man released from some control That wronged him. Without aim his wandering eye, Unsteadied and unfixed, began to roll. His lower lip dropped loose. The informing soul Seemed fading from his face. He laughed out loud Once only: then looked round him, hushed and cowed.

Then, summoning all himself, with tightened lip, With desperate coolness and attentive air, He touched between his thumb and finger tip, Each in its turn, the four legs of his chair, Then back again in haste--there!--that one there Had been forgotten ... once more! ... safer now; That’s better! and he smiled and cleared his brow.

Yet this was but a moment’s ease. Once more He glanced about him like a startled hare, His big eyes bulged with horror. As before, Quick!--to the touch that saves him. But despair Is nearer by one step; and in his chair Huddling he waits. He knows that they’ll come strong Again and yet again and all night long;

And after this night comes another night --Night after night until the worst of all. And now too even the noonday and the light Let through the horrors. Oh, could he recall The deep sleep and the dreams that used to fall Around him for the asking. But, somehow, Something’s amiss ... sleep comes so rarely now.

Then, like the dog returning to its vomit, He staggered to the bookcase to renew Yet once again the taint he had taken from it, And shuddered as he went. But horror drew His feet, as joy draws others. There in view Was his strange heaven and his far stranger hell, His secret lust, his soul’s dark citadel:--

Old Theogmagia, Demonology, Cabbala, Chemic Magic, Book of the Dead, Damning Hermetic rolls that none may see Save the already damned--such grules are bred From minds that lose the Spirit and seek instead For spirits in the dust of dead men’s error, Buying the joys of dream with dreamland terror.

This lost soul looked them over one and all Now sickened at the heart’s root; for he knew This night was one of those when he would fall And scream alone (such things they made him do) And roll upon the floor. The madness grew Wild at his breast, but still his brain was clear That he could watch the moment coming near.

But, ere it came, he heard a sound, half groan, Half muttering, from the table. Like a child Caught unawares that thought it was alone, He started as in guilt. His gaze was wild, Yet pitiably with all his will he smiled, --So strong is shame, even then. And Dymer stirred, Now waking, and looked up and spoke one word:

“Water!” he said. He was too dazed to see What hell-wrung face looked down, what shaking hand Poured out the draught. He drank it thirstily And held the glass for more. “Your land ... your land Of dreams,” he said. “All lies!... I understand More than I did. Yes, water. I’ve the thirst Of hell itself. Your magic’s all accursed.”

When he had drunk again he rose and stood, Pallid and cold with sleep. “By God,” he said, “You did me wrong to send me to that wood. I sought a living spirit and found instead Bogys and wraiths.” The Master raised his head Calm as a sage and answered, “Are you mad? Come, sit you down. Tell me what dream you had.”

--“I dreamed about a wood ... an autumn red Of beech-trees big as mountains. Down between-- The first thing that I saw--a clearing spread, Deep down, oh, very deep. Like some ravine Or like a well it sank, that forest green Under its weight of forest--more remote Than one ship in a landlocked sea afloat.

“Then through the narrowed sky some heavy bird Would flap its way, a stillness more profound Following its languid wings. Sometimes I heard Far off in the long woods with quiet sound The sudden chestnut thumping to the ground, Or the dry leaf that drifted past upon Its endless loiter earthward and was gone.

“Then next ... I heard twigs splintering on my right And rustling in the thickets. Turning there I watched. Out of the foliage came in sight The head and blundering shoulders of a bear, Glistening in sable black, with beady stare Of eyes towards me, and no room to fly --But padding soft and slow the beast came by.

“And--mark their flattery--stood and rubbed his flank Against me. On my shaken legs I felt His heart beat. And my hand that stroked him sank Wrist-deep upon his shoulder in soft pelt. Yes ... and across my spirit as I smelt The wild thing’s scent, a new, sweet wildness ran Whispering of Eden-fields long lost by man.

“So far was well. But then came emerald birds Singing about my head. I took my way Sauntering the cloistered woods. Then came the herds, The roebuck and the fallow deer at play Trooping to nose my hand. All this, you say, Was sweet? Oh sweet!... do you think I could not see That beasts and wood were nothing else but me?

“... That I was making everything I saw, Too sweet, far too well fitted to desire To be a living thing? Those forests draw No sap from the kind earth: the solar fire And soft rain feed them not: that fairy brier Pricks not: the birds sing sweetly in that brake Not for their own delight but for my sake!

“It is a world of sad, cold, heartless stuff, Like a bought smile, no joy in it.”--“But stay; Did you not find your lady?”--“Sure enough! I still had hopes till then. The autumn day Was westering, the long shadows crossed my way, When over daisies folded for the night Beneath rook-gathering elms she came in sight.”

--“Was she not fair?”--“So beautiful, she seemed Almost a living soul. But every part Was what I made it--all that I had dreamed-- No more, no less: the mirror of my heart, Such things as boyhood feigns beneath the smart Of solitude and spring. I was deceived Almost. In that first moment I believed.

“For a big, brooding rapture, tense as fire And calm as a first sleep had soaked me through Without thought, without word, without desire.... Meanwhile above our heads the deepening blue Burnished the gathering stars. Her sweetness drew A veil before my eyes. The minutes passed Heavy like loaded vines. She spoke at last.

“She said, for this land only did men love The shadow-lands of earth. All our disease Of longing, all the hopes we fabled of, Fortunate islands or Hesperean seas Or woods beyond the West, were but the breeze That blew from off those shores: one farspent breath That reached even to the world of change and death.

“She told me I had journeyed home at last Into the golden age and the good countrie That had been always there. She bade me cast My cares behind forever:--on her knee Worshipped me, lord and love--oh, I can see Her red lips even now! Is it not wrong That men’s delusions should be made so strong?

“For listen, I was so besotted now She made me think that I was somehow seeing The very core of truth ... I felt somehow, Beyond all veils, the inward pulse of being. Thought was enslaved, but oh, it felt like freeing And draughts of larger air. It is too much! Who can come through untainted from that touch?

“There I was nearly wrecked. But mark the rest: She went too fast. Soft to my arms she came. The robe slipped from her shoulder. The smooth breast Was bare against my own. She shone like flame Before me in the dusk, all love, all shame-- Faugh!--and it was myself. But all was well, For, at the least, that moment snapped the spell.

“As when you light a candle, the great gloom Which was the unbounded night, sinks down, compressed To four white walls in one familiar room, So the vague joy shrank wilted in my breast And narrowed to one point, unmasked, confessed; Fool’s paradise was gone: instead was there King Lust with his black, sudden, serious stare.

“That moment in a cloud among the trees Wild music and the glare of torches came. On sweated faces, on the prancing knees Of shaggy satyrs fell the smoky flame, On ape and goat and crawlers without name, On rolling breast, black eyes and tossing hair, On old bald-headed witches, lean and bare.

“They beat the devilish tom-tom rub-a-dub; Lunging, leaping, in unwieldy romp, Singing Cotytto and Beelzebub, With devil dancers mask and phallic pomp, Torn raw with briers and caked from many a swamp They came, among the wild flowers dripping blood And churning the green mosses into mud.

“They sang, ‘Return! Return! We are the lust That was before the world and still shall be When your last law is trampled into dust, We are the mother swamp, the primal sea Whence the dry land appeared. Old, old are we. It is but a return ... it’s nothing new, Easy as slipping on a well-worn shoe.’

“And then there came warm mouths and finger-tips Preying upon me, whence I could not see, Then ... a huge face, low browed, with swollen lips Crooning ‘I am not beautiful as she, But I’m the older love; you shall love me Far more than Beauty’s self. You have been ours Always. We are the world’s most ancient powers.’

“First flatterer and then bogy--like a dream! Sir, are you listening? Do you also know How close to the soft laughter comes the scream Down yonder?” But his host cried sharply, “No. Leave me alone. Why will you plague me? Go! Out of my house! Begone.”--“With all my heart,” Said Dymer. “But one word before we part.”

He paused, and in his cheek the anger burned: Then turning to the table, he poured out More water. But before he drank he turned-- Then leaped back to the window with a shout For there--it was no dream--beyond all doubt He saw the Master crouch with levelled gun Cackling in maniac voice, “Run, Dymer, run!”

He ducked and sprang far out. The starless night On the wet lawn closed round him every way. Then came the gun-crack and the splash of light Vanished as soon as seen. Cool garden clay Slid from his feet. He had fallen and he lay Face downward among leaves--then up and on Through branch and leaf till sense and breath were gone.