Part 6 (2/2)
LUCIAN. You cannot understand The greatness of this people, Cetewayo.
You are a savage, reasoning like a child.
Each pallid English face conceals a brain Whose powers are proven in the works of Newton And in the plays of the immortal Shakespear.
There is not one of all the thousands here But, if you placed him naked in the desert, Would presently construct a steam engine, And lay a cable t' th' Antipodes.
CETEWAYO. Have I been brought a million miles by sea To learn how men can lie! Know, Father Webber, Men become civilized through twin diseases, Terror and Greed to wit: these two conjoined Become the grisly parents of Invention.
Why does the trembling white with frantic toil Of hand and brain produce the magic gun That slays a mile off, whilst the manly Zulu Dares look his foe i' the face; fights foot to foot; Lives in the present; drains the Here and Now; Makes life a long reality, and death A moment only! whilst your Englishman Glares on his burning candle's winding-sheets, Counting the steps of his approaching doom.
And in the murky corners ever sees Two horrid shadows, Death and Poverty: In the which anguish an unnatural edge Comes on his frighted brain, which straight devises Strange frauds by which to filch unearned gold, Mad crafts by which to slay unfaced foes, Until at last his agonized desire Makes possibility its slave. And then-- Horrible climax! All-undoing spite!-- Th' importunate clutching of the coward's hand From wearied Nature Devastation's secrets Doth wrest; when straight the brave black-livered man Is blown explosively from off the globe; And Death and Dread, with their white-livered slaves O'er-run the earth, and through their chattering teeth Stammer the words ”Survival of the Fittest.”
Enough of this: I came not here to talk.
Thou say'st thou hast two white-faced ones who dare Fight without guns, and spearless, to the death.
Let them be brought.
LUCIAN. They fight not to the death, But under strictest rules: as, for example, Half of their persons shall not be attacked; Nor shall they suffer blows when they fall down, Nor stroke of foot at any time. And, further, That frequent opportunities of rest With succor and refreshment be secured them.
CETEWAYO. Ye G.o.ds, what cowards! Zululand, my Zululand: Personified Pusillanimity Hath ta'en thee from the bravest of the brave!
LUCIAN. Lo, the rude savage whose untutored mind Cannot perceive self-evidence, and doubts That Brave and English mean the self-same thing!
CETEWAYO. Well, well, produce these heroes. I surmise They will be carried by their nurses, lest Some barking dog or b.u.mbling bee should scare them.
CETEWAYO _takes his state_. _Enter_ PARADISE
LYDIA. What hateful wretch is this whose mighty thews Presage destruction to his adversaries?
LORD WORTHINGTON. 'Tis Paradise.
LYDIA. He of whom Cashel spoke?
A dreadful thought ices my heart. Oh, why Did Cashel leave us at the door?
_Enter_ CASHEL
LORD WORTHINGTON. Behold!
The champion comes.
LYDIA. Oh, I could kiss him now, Here, before all the world. His boxing things Render him most attractive. But I fear Yon villain's fists may maul him.
WORTHINGTON. Have no fear.
Hark! the king speaks.
CETEWAYO. Ye sons of the white queen: Tell me your names and deeds ere ye fall to.
PARADISE. Your royal highness, you beholds a bloke What gets his living honest by his fists.
I may not have the polish of some toffs As I could mention on; but up to now No man has took my number down. I scale Close on twelve stun; my age is twenty-three; And at Bill Richardson's Blue Anchor pub Am to be heard of any day by such As likes the job. I don't know, governor, As ennythink remains for me to say.
CETEWAYO. Six wives and thirty oxen shalt thou have If on the sand thou leave thy foeman dead.
Methinks he looks scornfully on thee.
[_To_ CASHEL] Ha! dost thou not so?
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