No More Learning

All the Workers of this world began to ascend behind
them : the manufacturers and the artisans, the lenders
and shopkeepers, some carrying various kinds of mer-
chandise, some immense bags, others undulating rolls of
paper closely covered with writing. As they reached the
midway of the giant stairs, they were all ordered to stop,
while a voice of thunder from above demanded their
names. Turn by turn they replied in the denomination
of the trade, the merchandise, the manufacture they sev-
erally represented, or by some adopted number ; for none
among them possessed or were any longer known by any
proper human 7iame in this world !

Behold ! after this black surge of people, and following
in their wake, appeared a strange group of melancholy
men bowed towards the ground. They held antique
swords in their hands, and wore battered and rusty
armor upon their shoulders. At this moment the Young
Man heard the words : "Look! those are the last de-
scendants of the old nobility ! " And glancing rapidly
around him, he saw the Apparition again at his side.

This train also mounted the giant stairs until it reached



1 62 THE '' FRAGMENT. "

midway, and then each man took his station upon a great
block of marble, and seemed suddenly to become enraged
against the arms he had hitherto borne; striking, break-
ing, pounding, and crushing them with axe and hammer.
The Apparition said : " Look at them ! They are trying
to extract the gold of Damascus, the turquoises of Persia,
from the bucklers of their ancestors ! They are tearing
the diamonds, tarnished by the lapse of centuries, from
those heaps of arms and sabres, in order to carry them to
the merchants ; they will sell to them the last remains of
ancient glory! " While the Shade of Dante thus com-
plained, they threw down the fragments of their armor ;
helmets, cuirasses, breastplates, and daggers rang as they
fell upon the pavement, and glittered as they broke into
sparkling fragments.

Then the sons of the valiant of old arose and ascended
higher, stretching out their hands, full of gold and spark-
ling gems, toward the merchants ; and thus being allowed
to advance, they supplicated in humble tones that they
might be permitted to enter among the merchants and
princes. A sign was mSde to them from above that their
request was granted. They proffered many thanks, and,
speaking now in louder tones, they began to haggle,
cavil, and bargain about the price of their merchandise,
their precious jewels. The features of Dante writhed
with pain ; the blood burst from his torn lips, and he
groaned out: "No. The Hell of the ancients never
caused me so much agony ! "

Placing his transparent hand upon the head of the
Young Man, he said : "Remember! " . . . But at that
very moment he again disappeared. Melting into the
transparent air, he was seen no longer.

A funereal groan, rising into a cry of fury, now rang
through this world, howling up from the depths of the
abyss : floating above the nations, it broke at last, with
fearful violence, against the Platform ! The Princes and
the Great of Earth grew suddenly pale ; but the coun-
tenances of the merchants did not change ; a strange
smile only writhed their lips as they fondly caressed their
gray beards.

Look ! look ! Giant forms break their way through



THE DREAM. 1 63

the very centre of the black masses ; they come, they
come ! They grow in numbers as they draw nearer !
And as they approached him the Young Man recognized
the Twelve who had been consecrated, and the Thir-
teenth, their chief, who held in his right hand the dag-
ger, and in his left the cup of blood.

And as he advanced, his face seemed to float above the
sea of human heads, power streamed from it, and genius
flashed around it. Leading his Giants to the first step,
he ordered them to take their seats, and there await his
return. And quite alone and asking permission from
none, and motioning away with his hands the bayonets
of the soldiers, he ascended, — gigantic, irresistible, and
irrepressible, shaking his thick hair as if it were the mane
of a lion !

One of the merchants descended to meet him, and in-
troduced him upon the platform even into the very midst
of the circle of consultation. But at this moment it
seemed to the Young Man that the eyes of the Giant lost
their fire, and the lion-like power of his brow grew mild.
Standing boldly, however, in the midst of the merchants,
he cried, in a voice resonant as thunder : " I am here for
the last time, to summon you in the name of the
Oppressed and Wretched ! For the last time we cry :
* Share with us, or die ! Division or Death ! ' "

The twelve martyrs left at the foot of the platform
greeted this cry with enthusiastic acclaim ; thousands and
thousands among the multitude repeated it, and the abyss
sent it back in echoes of thunder.

The giant leaned forward, and threw his double-bladed
sword upon the ground ; then stooping still lower, he
bent and bent until his forehead had quite disappeared
from the gaze of the nations. Thus contracted, he seated
himself upon one of the thrones of the merchants, and
said, in a low voice : ''Answer without delay! How
much will you give me for this cup of blood ? "

When the merchants had told him the price they had
fixed upon it, he said : " It is not enough for the blood I
offer you to-day ! Have you the slightest idea of what is
going on in the abyss? Have you ever had sufficient
courage to descend therein ? Severed as we may have



i64 ^-^^ *' fragment:'

been, we are all thoroughly united now ; they await my
return, ploughing their breasts with their nails in rage;
desperate and resolute; tearing their hair and howling
with fury ! Should they be again deceived to-day after
so many juggles, I cannot answer for them. They may
break into open revolt. Pleasant flattery, skillful phrases,
honeyed promises, will no longer appease them ; maddened
in their lair, their wild arms are already raised to strike
a fatal blow ! And you pause in this deadly hour to
chaffer and traffic with me ? Merchants and masters of
the world, is not your luxurious and fortunate position
worth a handful of gold to him who risks his life to aid
you to rescue it? "

The merchants answered : " Every day you repeat this
same story in our ears ! However, on condition that you
will urge no further claims, we will pay more for the
blood you have now brought us. "

And after much consultation, they offered him a larger
sum. But he again refused. "It is not enough for the
blood I have brought to-day! " And lifting up the cup,
he pretended to be in haste to leave the throne.

One of the merchants then unloosed from the band he
wore upon his head an enormous diamond, and said :
"This is a nail from the cross of Golgotha, which was
thus transformed during the night in which your God
expired ! It was torn from the wood at early dawn
the next morning by one of my own ancestors. Since
that time it has always been preserved in my family.
Will this diamond repay you for the • blood of your
brothers? "

The Giant cast a glance upon it ; then lowering the
cup, he poured out all the blood it contained at the feet
of the merchants, and said : "The nail is mine ! " The
Jew threw the diamond into the empty chalice, which
rang in melancholy cadence as it fell !

The chief of the Sacrifice then rose, and wended his
way back to the nations of the world. He broke forth
in threats and curses as he descended to his brothers, who
cried to liim: " Wlien ? Where? "

He replied to them in angry tones : " Follow me im-
mediately ! Our hour is not yet ; but it will surely



THE DREAM.



165



come! " And inducing them to follow him, he broke
away through the multitudes to the entrance of the abyss.

The merchants who had bargained with him then an-
nounced to the nations that perfect peace and absolute
security reigned upon earth ; that every one would now
be allowed to ascend and descend, to trade, buy, and sell.
Upon the thrones above sat all the merchants and all the
princes ; at their feet lay the company of nobles upon the
marble; they supported their heads upon' the sonorous
sacks in which the souls of the merchants moaned, and
clasped in the hollows of their hands the precious gems
they had torn from their swords and armor, — and thus
they lay extended, immovable, disarmed, their brows con-
tracted and great tears in their eyes.

And the common men incessantly rushed up and down
the great stairs in two contrary currents; a constant up-
roar prevailed among the people, disputing, haggling, and
agreeing about prices : and the howling multitude below
also bargained, traded, bought and sold.

Poor wretches down there were also crying that they
had lost all chance of making their daily bread: but no
one heeded their complaints. Countless groups were
there, burning with fever or shivering with cold : but no
one deigned to look at them. Crushed and mutilated
bodies were here and there lying about, still moving their
white lii)s and muttering : " Help ! Help! " but no hand
was stretched out to aid them !

While these things were passing upon the earth, the
reflection of all those souls which had at first inundated
space with a bloody light now became of a livid, ghastly
hue. As if hearts were breaking, one after the other, all
those fires, rays, lights, fell and died out. Then the smoke,
hanging round and wreathing itself about the cornices of
granite, overhung the walls of the edifice like a black cu-
pola, obscuring the Yellow Sun, and filling the immense
structure with darkness from base to pinnacle. In the
heart of this gloom, the Bankers of the Orient alone still
sat upon their thrones. And the world was all one black
Exchange ! and the merchants were kings of the earth !

All these pictures and images, mingling and fusing,
began to surge, grow dim, and disaj^pear before the eyes

15



1 66 THE '' fragment:'

of the Young Man. In the midst of this fog, always
thicker and more dismal, the figure of Dante, sad but
tranquil, again became visible; and the Young Man caught
the tones: "Depart from this Hell of the base! " And
at these words a vivifying cold, like a breath of fresh night
air, swept over his temples.

The Apparition took him by the hand, and moved
before him over white and silent clouds, permeated by
the faint perfume of an invisible verdure ! From time to
time also the sapphire of the sky was seen to break, and
little stars glittered in the distance. Lo ! on a sudden a
deep groan floated on behind the clouds, filled them, and
then died away ; but scarcely had it expired before a
second rose, — then a third, — then a fourth, — lo ! a multi-
tudinous wail of protracted pain ! And the clouds of
silver opened before it like flocks of frightened swans.

And it seemed to the Young Man that he and the Seer
stopped upon one of the clouds, and that from it, as from
a high balcony, they looked down upon a vast plain and
round a circle of pure azure illuminated by a full moon.
It seemed to him that before him in the plain he saw, as
it were, a forest of tall, slim trees ; they resembled pines,
but were cut in a most singular manner, for on each tall
trunk but two branches had been left ; and every tree rose
upon its own mound. Meanwhile, the groans became more
and more frequent, — each of them thrilled the air like a
clap of thunder, and resounded and re-echoed through
space, like the death-cries of thousands of men suffering
together !

The Shade asked : " Seest thou the Purgatory of our
present days? "

The Young Man answered: "I see nothing save this
forest and the sky. "

The Seer slowly raised his hands and said : "For the
second time thou wilt receive the gift of vision, for with
the same sight with which thou seest into the vile thou
canst not perceive the generous. But first listen atten-
tively to what I have to say to thee :

"There is no death ! Its frightful semblance alone
is f The Lord formed it nowhere, nor ever : for He lives
everywhere and forever ! No one dies eternally save



THE DREAM.



167



through an titter and voluntary degradation, and for him
who thus ends there is no longer existence nor tomb.
He is degraded to utter nothingness ; he is absorbed in
his own debasement. Perhaps in the circling thousands
of centuries something may yet reawaken within him. . . .
But no ! Such a one will never be purified nor have part
in the resurrection ! But whosoever is to live again must
be transformed, and every transformation bears tempo-
rarily the appearance of death. Such is the probation of
the grave. Full of mockery, of tears, of grief, of illusion !
Individuals and races, the Humanity and the worlds, must
alike submit to it, — every immortal must traverse it. He
who has not been able to bear it has perished forever!
Be lion-hearted, Henry, for such probations are about to
open before thee ! "

And placing his fingers upon his eyelids, he breathed
upon them.

It seemed to the Young Man that from every pine-
tree in this great forest the form of a man crucified
started forth ! He then perceived a multitude of bodies,
palpitating and bloody, thus suspended in the air, — and
at every moment their numbers augmented. Rank suc-
ceeded to rank in the wan light of the moon ; they wid-
ened, they lengthened, they extended here, there, ever
farther, even to the most distant limits of the horizon.
All space is living, breathing, palpitating, shivering with
them ! And the Young Man knew it was an entire na-
tion extended in the Passion of Christ upon its own soil,
— and his eyes swam in tears !

And the Shade said : " Look ! in spite of thy horror,
turn not away ! To conquer suffering we must master the
science of grief! Look into this limitless forest, how, by
a premeditated and powerful effort, every tree, stripped of
its branches, has been made into a cross I See how each
cross rises from a mound of heaped ruins ; and those ruins
are the skeletons of churches, of homes once full of happy
life !

"And everywhere between each mound there are equal
intervals, — but nowhere are there bushes, flowers, nor
turf ! As blocks of stone are transmuted into a city, so
have these forests been transformed into a vast cemetery



1 68 THE '' FRAGMENT. "

of torture ! None but a perfect Torturer could thus meas-
ure out grief, thus arrange the machinery of death ! "

When tlie Young Man looked again, it seemed to him
that he saw upon the mounds streamers and ribbons of fog
silvered by the moon, and although there was no wind to
stir them, he observed that sometimes they rose and some-
times they fell, as if they too suffered and could find no
rest. And he recognized that they were bands of women
and children, dressed in white and standing under the
crosses. He saw their light hands raised towards the tops
of the trees, like white wings, which would, but could not,
soar high enough to reach them, and which, in despair of
power, fell back to earth. Then began a hymn of mingled
shuddering and prayer, which died away in sobs and
tears !

And the warm blood trickled from above upon those
snowy groups, poured upon them, and flowed, ever re-
newed, among the mounds, and could be heard from afar
like threatening and swollen torrents. It seemed to the
Young Man that the Apparition again addressed him :
"Turn not thine eyes from those multitudes, who are
melting away in rivers of blood ! The Crucified are about
to feel the shivering and convulsion of Death and Trans-
ition ! They cannot die, but they will be given over to
the agony of death, — and you must contemplate and
meditate upon it. I command it : look! "

At this moment the cry of myriads of victims broke
upon the ear like claps of thunder, — the trees, even to
the utmost limit of the plain, cracked and creaked, — and
voices which break the heart shook the air like a hurri-
cane. Tossed by the same whirlwind of grief, all the
bodies shuddered and writhed upon their crosses, — and
as the summer rain after a sharj) clap of thunder pours
more heavily, so everywhere spouted and fell thicker
streams of blood ! Then this wild tem])est of human
torture began to abate; the plain gradually sank into
silence; the crosses fell back into immobility and order;
again all was mute as death, — nothing save the incessant
dropping of blood was now to be heard.

A sudden laugh rose upon and rent the air ! The
Young Man cast his eyes immediately below him, and in



THE DREAM.



169



front of the first row of crosses, in the open plain, lie saw
a far higher and far larger mound ; it was black, and com-
posed entirely of ruins and cinders, — like the wrecks of
a city after a great conflagration. The remains of can-
non and broken swords and arms still pierced through the
surface of that vast heap of coals and ashes, — and a livid
smoke oozed everywhere from it, wrapping its clouds
round a Giant, who was seen standing upon the ruins !

A ray of the moon at that moment fell upon him and
glittered on the points of his crown of steel, so that his
soldier's cloak, bound by an iron chain, could be clearly
seen ; but instead of a sword, a many-thonged whip of
leather, which fell to the very feet of this monarch, hung
from its heavy links. Whenever the groans of the cruci-
fied were heard, he stretched his head forward to listen ;
and when the broken sobs of the women rose high upon
the air, he responded by clapping his hands ! The Shade
of Dante said : " Behold, the perfect Butcher ! Listen !
he will tempt them in their agony ! "

Then it seemed to the Young Man that the crowned
Giant leaned over his mound, and stretching forth one
hand toward the martyred multitude, while with the other
he grasped his belt of chains and his whip of thongs as
if they were a sword, he cried : " Forget the Past : Re-
nounce the Future ! Deny your country and your God !
It is I ! I will be your Past — your Future — your Country
— your God ! Worship me ! and as I have ordained that
you should be nailed upon these crosses, I will ordain
that you shall be taken down ! I will call my slaves, and
they shall deliver you, and I will make you a happy
People ! I will give you plenty to eat, plenty to drink,
and you shall have all things in abundance ! Your ema-
ciated and mutilated bodies will regain their early vigor ;
they will grow fat and whole ! "

But the crucified multitude made no reply ; they uttered
not a single plaint ! Only the blood which inundated the
soil swelled into a mighty torrent, and like the waves of
the sea beat against the mound, and through all the roar
of the hurrying shock the Young Man caught the word :
No ! The snowy clouds of women made no reply, but
when the flood rolled back, they knelt, and raised their

15*



lyo THE "FRAGMENTS

infants in their arms: and the little voices of the children
lifted in the air cried : No ! And scarcely had the mur-
mur of the thousands of little voices risen upon the wind,
when a marvelous luminosity inundated space — and the
Young Man lifted his eyes!

And lo! above, but very, very high, at the utmost
summit of the wan dome of azure, it seemed as if two
milky-ways were descending from the celestial vault, and
they formed an immense, vast, and luminous cross, and
a Form was seen extended upon this cross, which ap-
proached ever nearer and nearer. The Arms were out-
spread above the world, and with every moment their arc
enlarged and increased its span. And upon the Brow
which pierced into the Heavens was a Crown of Thorns,
which, like heat-lightning, flashed in silence, and in the
hollows of the Hands and Feet the Young Man saw three
shining wounds, like three red moons, and from them for-
ever flowed, as it were, rainbows of blood, and each rain-
bow as it fell broke into swarms of stars, which scattered
through and illumined Space.

And thus in glory and in blood, crucified, but contin-
ually creating, the Figure floated down, ever lower, lower,
casting sunshine into the uttermost abysses, until the
milky-ways upon which it was borne grew into two im-
measurable rings of silver, encircling the horizon from the
East to the West, from the North to the South ; while
from the blood that flowed millions of stars sprang into
being, and they shrouded the Form in light, like a veil
woven of stars. The Eyes alone still pierced through,
like two living fonts of lightning, not dispersing over the
universe, but falling straight from Heaven to earth, until
they lighted in their fullness upon the Forest of the Cru-
cified !

And all the pale and bloody bodies, and all the sinking
heads and corpse-like faces, with their dying eyes, were
fully pictured in this Divine Gaze ! It seemed to the
Young Man that he saw the whole Crucified Nation float-
ing there in a sea of celestial light ! and he cried : " Too
late ! too late ! "

The vShade of Dante, kneeling upon a cloud, then said :
"Verily! verily! This is the Purgatory of the present



THE DREAM.



171



days, for each body here must endure its passion ; but
over the soul of this Nation watches the Mysterious, the
Beloved r

But as the Young Man struck his breast, wept, and re-
fused to be comforted, the Master continued : " Weep not
for these, but for those below who inhabit the world of
granite, for there is dissolution, damnation, and hell !
Here there is only grief ! Have I not told thee the spirit
resuscitates from grief? hut from infamy there is no resur-
rection /' '

The curtain of clouds fell low as he spake : and the
plain, the forest, the heavens, and the gaze of flame of
the Divine Form, — all disappeared !

The air now grew lighter, fresher, clearer. The crown
which glittered upon the brow of the Seer vanished. And
it seemed to the Young Man that he again saw the interior
of a chapel, the fields, the mountains, and the rising sun.
Stretching out his hands, he cried: '^Master! master!
Show me Heaven — it is the third — upon the earth ! "

The Shade of Dante condensed again into a form, and
appeared entire in the midst of the dawning light. But
his voice had other tones; as if already from afar, and
returning to the glory whence he had come, the Young
Man heard : "Until the present hour there have been in
your world only Hell and Purgatory. But the Spirit of the
Lord has chosen His dwelling in your bosoms ! You are
like abysses ; and in your depths also hides the blue of
Heaven ! Let Faith bathe it in its light, let your holy will
force it to external manifestation, let it surround you on
all sides, let it fill your horizon ! It is the miracle of love !
Then will Heaven begin to dawn upon the earth. But
watch with care, for no other path will lead you there:
neither blind chance, nor fatal destiny, nor the caprices
of license, nor the delusions of pride. Woe !
woe to the
centuries, should infernal violence attack the mercy of
God ! For God, your Creator, has respected you to such
a degree as to leave you free to attack even Himself; to
conquer Him through your own evil: — but conquered.
He, who is the very Being of every being, will abandon
you, and in exchange for eternal life there will only re-
main in you an eternal void, an eternal want, an eternal



172



THE '^ fragment:'



nothingness ! Watch closely, then, over the destinies of
your planet ! "

And vanishing in the glory of the light of dawn —
leaving in the air a last trace of silver — through circles
ever larger and more luminous, — like a whirlpool of agi-
tated waters — like the breath of dying winds — like a pass-
ing dream, — the figure of Dante mounted in space, — far
into the light of the sun, — then it sped on into the invisi-
ble Infinite !



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.



" To the accumulated errors of their ancestors they added aults un-
known to them, — Hesitation and Fear: therefore it came to pass that
they vanished from the face of the earth, and a deep silence fell upon
them. "

L'Anonyme.

" To be, or not to be, that is the question. "

Hamlet.



(WRITTEN IN 1834-1835. )



Translation coUated from the version in German by R. Bafornicki, Leip-
sic, 1841 ; from the z'ersion in French in the Rcvtie dcs Deux Afondes,
Oct. I, 1846 ; and from that published by Ladislas Mickiewicz, in Paris,
1869: " CEuvres Completes dit Po'ete Anonyme. "



In this drama, or rather dramatic vision, our Author de-
sires to point out to his countrymen the two rocks which
he dreads for them : the first, is that alluring enthusiasm
which is born of the imagination rather than of the heart,
which seduces by its antique and brilliant forms, but is
powerless to understand, and consequently to create, any-
thing in the Present ; the second, is that excess of ma-
terial force which destroys without rebuilding, which
pulls down without reconstructing, because, like the base-
less idealism, it also lacks the vivifying inspiration of the
heart. These two excesses are represented in the persons
of Count Henry and Pancras. The one, led astray by
the phantoms of love and glory, sacrifices the happiness
of his family, the interests of his country, to a double chi-

173



174



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.



mera ; the other, after having conquered the world by the
power of his intellect, and having multiplied ruins and
piled corpses around him, is overwhelmed by the convic-
tion of his own impotence, totters and expires in the face
of a superior power, which he, as well as the Count, had
not acknowledged. Is it necessary to name that power?
It is Christianity, which, subjecting both the imagination
and the intellect -to the heart, places its ideal in the union
of these three Divine forces. Thus not without design does
our Poet represent the Count and Pancras in mortal com-
bat, — the dreamer, whose imagination is fascinated by a
false ideal, and the thinker, whose intellect has proclaimed
to him the blind rule of force. The logical tendencies
of the two natures inevitably urge them to serve two in-
imical principles ; to arm, one in the name of the dreams
of the Past, and the other in the cause of the supposed
realities of the Present. Both are doomed to perish, and,
in their fatal duel, our Poet evinces no preference for
either champion.

Each part of "The Undivine Comedy" is preceded by
a prologue, in which the general thought is foreshadowed.
In the following invocation, our Author addresses himself
to such poets and poetry as sacrifice the heart and its
duties to a baseless imagination. We are about to see the
peace of domestic life ruined by this false enthusiasm, and
our Author indicates in this lyrical invective the principal
traits in the character of Count Henry, who represents
the fatal victory of iniag^iiiation over duty. — Revue des
Deux Mondes, ler dctobre,"T846.



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. *



INVOCATION.



Stars circle round thy head, and at thy feet
Surges the sea, upon whose hurrying waves
A Rainbow glides before thee, cleaving the clouds !
Whate'er thou look'st upon is thine ! Coasts, ships,
Men, mountains, cities, all belong to thee !
Master of Heaven as earth, it seems as naught
Could equal thee in glory !

To ears which heed thy lays, thou givest joys,
Raptures ineffable ! Thou weavest hearts
Together, then untwin'st them like a wreath.
As wild caprice may guide thy flame-lit fingers !
Thou forcest tears, then driest them with a smile ;
Then scar'st away the smile from paling lips.
Perhaps but for a moment, a few hours,
Perhaps for evermore !

But thou ! — What dost thou fee/, and what create?
A living stream of beauty flows through thee.
But Beauty thou art not ! woe ! woe to thee !
The weeping child upon its mother's breast,
The field flower knowing not its perfumed gift,
More merit have before the Lord than thou !

Whence com'st thou, fleeting shadow? to the Light
Still bearing witness, though thou know'st it not,



* The appropriateness of this name must excuse its coinage. It has
been thought best not to attempt to alter the occasional irregularities in
the rhythm of this metrical translation, lest a weakening of its vigor
might be the result. — Eu.

'75



176



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.



Hast never seen it, nor wilt ever see !
In anger, or in mockery wert thou made?
So full of self deceit, that thou canst play
The angel to the moment when thou fall'st,
And crawlest like a reptile upon earth.
Stifled in mud, or feeding upon dust !
Thou and the woman have like origin ! *

Alas ! thou sufferest, too, although thy pangs
Bring naught to birth, nothing create, nor serve 1
The groans of the unfortunate are weighed ;
The lowest beggar's sighs counted in Heaven,
Gathered and sung upon celestial harps, —
But thy despair and sighs fall to the earth,
Where Satan gathers them ; — adds them with joy
To his own lies, illusions, mockeries !
The Lord will yet disown them, as they have
Ever disowned the Lord !

Not that I rise against thee. Poetry,
Mother of Beauty, of ideal Life !
But I must pity him condemned to dwell
Within the limits of these whirling worlds
In dying agonies, or yet to be,
Doomed to sad memories, or prophecies,
Perchance remorse, or vague presentiments, — •
Who gives himself to thee ! for everywhere
Thou ruinest wholly those who consecrate
Themselves, with all they are, to thee alone.
Who solely live the voices of thy glory !

Blessed is he in whom thou mak'st thy home,
As God dwelt in the world, concealed, unknown.
But grand and mighty in each separate part ;
The unseen God, before whom creatures bow.
And kneeling, cry : " Behold Him ! He is here ! "
A guiding star, he bears thee on his brow,
And no unfaithful word will sever him



* Imaginative and emotional : not working in the world of Actuality.



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.

From thy true love ! He will love men, and be
A man himself, encircled by his brothers !

From him, who keeps not with i\\tQ perfect failh,
Betrays thee to the hour, or his own needs,
Devotes thee to man's perishable joys.
Painting the sensual with thy hues divine, —
Thou turn'st away thy face, while scattering
Perchance upon his brow some fading flowers,
Of which he strives to twine a funeral crown.
Spending tiis life to weave a wreath of death !
He and the woman have one orisrin !



177



FIRST PERIOD.



" De toutes les choses serieuses, le mariage est la plus bouffonne. "!

BEAUMARCHAIS '

SCENE I. Morning. The castle of Count Henry is
seen. The Guardian Angel descends.

Guardian Angel. Peace upon earth to all men of good
will !
Among the created, blessed ever be
The man who has a heart ; he may be saved !
Wife, good'aii^ piire7~reveal thyself to him.
And a fair child be born unto their House !

{The angel vanishes. )
(Evil Spirits appear. )

CHORUS OF evil SPIRITS.

Rise, spectres, phantoms, rise ! Hover above.
Surround him !

Thou his first beloved in youth.
Buried but yesterday, come from the grave ;
Head them and lead them ever swarming on 1
In morning vapors bathe thyself anew ;
Wreathe thy dead brow with perfumed buds of spring: —
Thou, his lost love, float on before the Poet !

16



178 THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.

Rise, Glory, rise ! forgotten Eagle kept*
For centuries in Hell, well stuffed, preserved,
Descend from thy long-crumbling perch, unfold
Thy wings gigantic, whitened in the sun,
And dazzling wave them round the Poet's head !

Come from our vaults, thou rotting masterpiece
Of Beelzebub ! Thou wildering semblance of
An earthly Eden by his pencil sketched ;
Get in thy canvas the old rents reglued,
The holes and cracks with varnish all refilled ;
Wrapping thyself in webs of rainbow clouds,
Shimmer, unroll, and float before the Poet !
Mountains and seas, wild cliffs and forests dim.
With crimson dawns and golden purpling eves,
Cradle and lull the Poet in vain dreams !
O mother nature, closely hold thy son !

SCENE II. A village. A church with toiuers. TJu
Guardian X^q-ei. floats above it.

Guardian Angel. If thou wilt keep thy oath, thou
shalt my brother be
Before the face of God, our Father !

SCENE III. Interior of the church. Wax-lights blaze

upon the altar. Many witnesses are standing round it ;

a Bride and Bridegroom kneel before it.
A Priest {giving the Nuptial Benedictiofi). Remember

well my words. . . .
The Bride afid Groom rise. The Groom kisses the hand

of the Bride and leads her to a kinsman. All leave the

church save the Groom.

Bridegroom. I have descended to an earthly marriage.
Because I've found the bride my spirit dreamed.
If I should ever cease to love her, may «

God's malediction fall upon my head!

* Not the true glory of self-sacrifice is here designated, but that of
pride and egotism.



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY. 179

SCENE IV. A saloon filled with guests. Music, dancing,
lights, aiid flowers. The Bride, after waltzing a few
turns, accidentally meets the Bridegroom, Joins him, and
rests her head upon his shoulder.

Bridegroom. How beautiful thou art in thine ex-
haustion,
While orange flowers and pearls in soft confusion,
Fall through the wavy masses of thy hair !
Oh ! thou shalt ever be my song of love !

Bride. Yes, as my mother taught, my own heart
teaches ;
I'll ever be to thee a faithful wife ! . . .
How many guests are gathered here ! How warm
It grows ! how wearisome the noise they make !

Bridegroom. Go, join the dance again, that I may
watch
Thee as thou floatest like a spirit round ;
Thus have I seen the angels in my dreams !

Bride. I will if so thy wish ; . . . but I am tired,
And my heart throbs. . . .

Bridegroom. Dearest, I pray thee, go !

(Music and dancing. ')

SCENE V. An Evil Spirit appears in the form of a
maiden. Midnight. The castle in the distance ; a gar-
den and cemetery.

Evil Spirit. At the same hour, and in such a night,
Not long ago, I also coursed the earth.
To-day the Demons drive me forth; command
Me to assume a saintly form.

(He floats over the garden. ')
Ye perfumed flowers, break from your fragile stems
And deck my hair !

{He alights atnong the graves. )

Fresh charms of buried maids,
Scattered in air and floating o'er these graves.
Gather upon, and paint my swarthy cheeks
With roseate hues of hope and youthful love !



l8o THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.

Under this mossy stone a fair-haired girl
Moulders in rottenness — will soon be dust, —
Gold tresses, come ! Shadow my burning brow !

Under this fallen cross two lustrous eyes
Of heavenly blue lie in their sockets dead, —
To me ! to me ! the pure and lambent flame
Which filled them once, and glimmered through their
lashes !

A hundred torches burn within those bars
To light the worms where kings repose in state ;
They buried a young princess there to-day, —
Ye costly robes of snowy satin, come !
Fluttering like downy doves, fly through the grate ;
Leave with the dead, undraped, the virgin corpse,
And cling around my scathed and fleshless form !
And now, on ! on !



SECOND PERIOD.



^



SCENE I. Midnight. A slceping-apartmctit in the castle.
A night-lamp stands t/pon a table, and shines upon the
face of the Husband.

The Husband {dreaming'). Ha ! whence com'st thou
whom I no longer see, —
Will never see again ? What weary years !
As water softly flows, so glide thy feet,
Like two white waves of foam !
A holy calm is on thy blessed face ;
All I have dreamed or loved unites in thee !

{Awaking suddenly. )
Where am I? . . . Ha ! I'm sleeping by my wife !

( Gazing long upon her. )
That is my wife !

Ah ! once I thought thou wert
My Early Dream, — but there I was deceived :



THE UNDIVINE COMEDY.