Part 2 (1/2)
Should his child sicken unto death, why, look For scarce abatement of his cheerfulness, 160 Or pretermission of the daily craft!
While a word, gesture, glance from that same child At play or in the school or laid asleep, Will startle him to an agony of fear, Exasperation, just as like. Demand The reason why--”'t is but a word,” object-- ”A gesture”--he regards thee as our lord Who lived there in the pyramid alone, Looked at us (dost thou mind?) when, being young, We both would unadvisedly recite 170 Some charm's beginning, from that book of his, Able to bid the sun throb wide and burst All into stars, as suns grown old are wont.
Thou and the child have each a veil alike Thrown o'er your heads, from under which ye both Stretch your blind hands and trifle with a match Over a mine of Greek fire, did ye know!
He holds on firmly to some thread of life-- (It is the life to lead perforcedly) Which runs across some vast distracting orb 180 Of glory on either side that meagre thread, Which, conscious of, he must not enter yet-- The spiritual life around the earthly life: The law of that is known to him as this, His heart and brain move there, his feet stay here.
So is the man perplext with impulses Sudden to start off crosswise, not straight on, Proclaiming what is right and wrong across, And not along, this black thread through the blaze-- ”It should be” balked by ”here it cannot be.” 190 And oft the man's soul springs into his face As if he saw again and heard again His sage that bade him ”Rise” and he did rise.
Something, a word, a tick o' the blood within Admonishes: then back he sinks at once To ashes, who was very fire before, In sedulous recurrence to his trade Whereby he earneth him the daily bread; And studiously the humbler for that pride, Professedly the faultier that he knows 200 G.o.d's secret, while he holds the thread of life.
Indeed the especial marking of the man Is p.r.o.ne submission to the heavenly will-- Seeing it, what it is, and why it is.
'Sayeth, he will wait patient to the last For that same death which must restore his being To equilibrium, body loosening soul Divorced even now by premature full growth: He will live, nay, it pleaseth him to live So long as G.o.d please, and just how G.o.d please. 210 He even seeketh not to please G.o.d more (Which meaneth, otherwise) than as G.o.d please.
Hence, I perceive not he affects to preach The doctrine of his sect whate'er it be, Make proselytes as madmen thirst to do: How can he give his neighbor the real ground, His own conviction? Ardent as he is-- Call his great truth a lie, why, still the old ”Be it as G.o.d please” rea.s.sureth him.
I probed the sore as thy disciple should: 220 ”How, beast,” said I, ”this stolid carelessness Sufficeth thee, when Rome is on her march To stamp out like a little spark thy town, Thy tribe, thy crazy tale and thee at once?”
He merely looked with his large eyes on me.
The man is apathetic, you deduce?
Contrariwise, he loves both old and young, Able and weak, affects the very brutes And birds--how say I? flowers of the field-- As a wise workman recognizes tools 230 In a master's workshop, loving what they make.
Thus is the man as harmless as a lamb: Only impatient, let him do his best, At ignorance and carelessness and sin-- An indignation which is promptly curbed: As when in certain travel I have feigned To be an ignoramus in our art According to some preconceived design, And happed to hear the land's pract.i.tioners Steeped in conceit sublimed by ignorance, 240 Prattle fantastically on disease, Its cause and cure--and I must hold my peace!
Thou wilt object--Why have I not ere this Sought out the sage himself, the Nazarene Who wrought this cure, inquiring at the source, Conferring with the frankness that befits?
Alas! it grieveth me, the learned leech Perished in a tumult many years ago, Accused--our learning's fate--of wizardry, Rebellion, to the setting up a rule 250 And creed prodigious as described to me.
His death, which happened when the earthquake fell (Prefiguring, as soon appeared, the loss To occult learning in our lord the sage Who lived there in the pyramid alone) Was wrought by the mad people--that's their wont!
On vain recourse, as I conjecture it, To his tried virtue, for miraculous help-- How could he stop the earthquake? That's their way!
The other imputations must be lies; 260 But take one, though I loathe to give it thee, In mere respect for any good man's fame.
(And after all, our patient Lazarus Is stark mad; should we count on what he says?
Perhaps not: though in writing to a leech 'Tis well to keep back nothing of a case.) This man so cured regards the curer, then, As--G.o.d forgive me! who but G.o.d himself, Creator and sustainer of the world, That came and dwelt in flesh on it awhile! 270 --'Sayeth that such an one was born and lived, Taught, healed the sick, broke bread at his own house; Then died, with Lazarus by, for aught I know, And yet was . . . what I said nor choose repeat, And must have so avouched himself, in fact, In hearing of this very Lazarus Who saith--but why all this of what he saith?
Why write of trivial matters, things of price Calling at every moment for remark?
I noticed on the margin of a pool 280 Blue-flowering borage, the Aleppo sort, Aboundeth, very nitrous. It is strange!
Thy pardon for this long and tedious case, Which, now that I review it, needs must seem Unduly dwelt on, prolixly set forth!
Nor I myself discern in what is writ Good cause for the peculiar interest And awe indeed this man has touched me with.
Perhaps the journey's end, the weariness Had wrought upon me first. I met him thus: 290 I crossed a ridge of short sharp broken hills Like an old lion's cheek teeth. Out there came A moon made like a face with certain spots Multiform, manifold and menacing: Then a wind rose behind me. So we met In this old sleepy town at unaware, The man and I. I send thee what is writ.
Regard it as a chance, a matter risked To this ambiguous Syrian--he may lose, Or steal, or give it thee with equal good. 300 Jerusalem's repose shall make amends For time this letter wastes, thy time and mine; Till when, once more thy pardon and farewell!
The very G.o.d! think, Abib; dost thou think?
So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too-- So, through the thunder comes a human voice Saying, ”0 heart I made, a heart beats here!
Face, my hands fas.h.i.+oned, see it in myself!
Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine, But love I gave thee, with myself to love, 310 And thou must love me who have died for thee!”
The madman saith He said so: it is strange.
NOTES
”An Epistle” gives the observations and opinions of Kars.h.i.+sh, the Arab physician, writing to Abib, his master, upon meeting with Lazarus after he has been raised from the dead. Well versed in Eastern medical lore, he tries to explain the extraordinary phenomenon according to his knowledge. He attributes Lazarus'
version of the miracle to mania induced by trance, and the means used by the Nazarene physician to awaken him, and strengthens his view by describing the strange state of mind in which he finds Lazarus--like a child with no appreciation of the relative values of things. Through his renewal of life he had caught a glimpse of it from the infinite point of view, and lives now only with the desire to please G.o.d. His sole active quality is a great love for all humanity, his impatience manifests itself only at sin and ignorance, and is quickly curbed. Kars.h.i.+sh, not able to realize this new plane of vision in which had been revealed to Lazarus the equal worth of all things in the divine plan, is incapable of understanding Lazarus; but in spite of his attempt to make light of the case, he is deeply impressed by the character of Lazarus, and has besides a hardly acknowledged desire to believe in this revelation, told of by Lazarus, of G.o.d as Love. Professor Corson says of this poem: ”It may be said to polarize the idea, so often presented in Browning's poetry, that doubt is a condition of the vitality of faith.”
17. Snakestone: a name given to any substance used as a remedy for snake-bites; for example, some are of chalk, some of animal charcoal, and some of vegetable substances.