Classic Poem

" BY VIRTUE of the high authority
Of Nature, who the custody of earth
As vicar or as constable maintains
For God, this sempiternal emperor
Who sits as in a tower, the sovereign
Of all this noble city called the world,
Of which Dame Nature is His deputy
Who there administers all benefits
According to the influence of the stars
By which all earthly happenings are ordained
In full accordance with the imperial rights
Of which she is the sole executor,
Who since the world was first an entity
Has brought all things to birth, and given term
Unto their growth and unto their increase,
Nor ever anything has made in vain
Beneath the sky, which turns unceasingly
About the earth, above the world as high
As it is low beneath, nor night nor day
Ceases its motion for a space of rest,
May all be cursed and excommunicate
As men disloyal, renegade, condemned
Without respite, be they or high or low,
Who in contempt hold Nature's processes
By which life is sustained! But he who strives
With all his might to further Nature's ends,
Takes pains to love, without one villain thought,
And labors loyally, may he be crowned,
When he goes there, with flowers in Paradise!
Provided he has full confession made,
I'll take upon myself all of his sins
And bear them with what strength I may possess,
Nor ever the least pardon for them ask.
" Woe worth the day when Nature freely gave,
According to her custom and her rule,
Unto false folk a tablet and a style,
Hammer or anvil, coulter pointed well
To use as plow on fertile, fallow ground —
Not stony, but with tender grass o'ergrown —
Which they should plow and therein deeply delve
With labor that she meant they should enjoy;
But they refuse to serve or honor her
By working as they should, and rather seek
Her blessings to destroy, when they desert
Her tablets, plowshares, and rich, fallow land,
Which she has made so precious and so dear
To aid perpetuation of the race
That Death may ne'er succeed to conquer all!
" Shame on the thriftless ones of whom I speak,
Who never deign to set themselves to work
To write their names upon the tablets fair
Or stamp their likenesses, which might endure!
So bitter their contempt, so scornful they,
That soon the anvils will grow green with moss
And perish for the want of hammer blows;
For rust will soon destroy them if the ring
Of sledges beating on them is not heard,
And fallow land that is not deeply plowed
Soon becomes barren through its own disuse.
Buried alive that man should be who dares
Neglect the instruments that God has made
With His own hand, and to my lady lent
That she with them may reproductions form
To give a mortal race eternal life.
" It truly seems that evilly they act,
Since if for sixty years all living men
Should follow their example, there would be
No children born again forevermore.
Were this God's will, mankind were at an end
And all the earth deserted, certainly,
Or peopled but with animals — dumb beasts —
Unless God pleased a new race to create,
Or bring those back to live on earth again
Who were deceased. Or if all women held
To their virginity for sixty years
The same result would follow. God must then,
If He so willed, create mankind anew.
" If it be said that God removes desire
From some, by His good grace, but not from all,
Then, since because of His omnipotence
His judgment cannot err, we may be sure
That every man should do as others do
That all may have of grace an equal share.
Then my conclusion is as 'twas before,
That to perdition this would bring the race.
From such dilemma one cannot escape
Unless belief can be sustained by faith;
For God in the beginning equally
Loved all mankind, and reasonable souls
Gave men as well as women. I believe
That 'tis His will that all — not just a few —
Pursue the road that best will lead to Him.
If 'tis His will that some lead virgin lives,
The better to follow Him, then why not all?
What reason should deter a man from that?
So it would seem that He were not displeased
If generation of mankind should cease.
Let those respond who will; I know no more
About the business. Bring on the divines,
Who may discuss, but never will conclude.
" But those who with their stylets scorn to write
Upon the precious tablets delicate
By means of which all mortals come to life,
Which Nature never lent us for disuse
But rather that we all should scriveners
Become, since each of us his livelihood
Gains in this way — yes, every he and she —
And those who two strong hammers have been lent
But will not as they should use them to forge
Upon the proper anvil properly —
And those who are so blinded by their sins
Or by the pride by which they are deranged
That they despise the furrow, fair and straight
Amidst the blooming and luxuriant field,
And to the proper roadway never keep
But go like wretches to the desert wastes
Where they misuse their plows and lose their seed
And prove their evil rules no other way
Than by exceptions most anomalous
When they desire to follow and observe
The example set by Orpheus, who scorned
To write on tablets, plow a furrow, forge —
May all such men be hanged up by the neck!
When they contrive such rules, they prove themselves
Opposed to Nature. May those who so despise
So fair a mistress that they read her rules
All upside down, and will not ever hold
Them right side up that they may understand
Their proper sense, but when they come to read
Pervert the Scripture, be condemned to Hell,
With total excommunication cursed!
And, since to their bad rule they have adhered,
Before they die may they all lose the signs
That they are males: the pilgrim scrip and stones!
May they those pendants lose with which their purse
Is heavy now! The hammers hung within
Be torn away! And may they be deprived
Of that convenient stylus they refused
To write withal upon the tablets fair!
And, since they have refused to plow aright
With them, may all the framework be removed
From out their coulters and their unused plows
So that they never can be raised again!
May all who follow them lead lives of shame!
And, that their foul and horrid wickedness
May dolorous and painful punishment
Receive, may they be scourged in every place
That all who meet them may perceive their sin!
" For God's sake, lords, you who are still alive,
To follow such examples e'er refuse;
Be active in your functions natural —
More active than the squirrel, and more deft
And lively than the birds or than the breeze.
Provided only you work manfully,
I pardon all your sins; lose not that boon!
Exert yourselves gaily to leap and dance,
And rest not, lest your members grow lukewarm.
All your utensils in the task employ;
He who works well by work will warm himself.
Plow, barons, plow — your lineage repair;
For if you do not there'll be nothing left
To build upon. Bend well your sturdy backs
Like sails that belly to take in the wind.
Though, if you please, your bodies be quite bare,
You'll never feel too cold, nor yet too warm.
The plow hales lift with your two naked hands,
And with your arms strongly assist the beam
And strive to thrust the coulter firmly home
And keep it in its proper place, to sink
More deeply in the furrow. Urge your steeds
More sharply forward; never let them rest;
Whip them along with the severest blows
That you can deal, when you most deep would pierce.
Or, if you work with horny-headed beasts
Yoked to your plow, urge them with goads. Thus you
Will amplify the benefits you reap.
You'll plow the best if oft you spur their speed.
" And when you've worked till you exhausted are,
You needs must take a suitable repose;
For in no task can one continue long
Without a rest. Nor need you recommence
Too soon, in order to advance the work,
Lest all your interest in the labor lag.
" Cadmus, obedient to Pallas' will,
More than an acre plowed, and sowed therein
The dragon's teeth, from whence sprang up a crop
Of armored knights, who such a fight began
That on the spot they all were killed but five
Who later, as his good companions, helped
Him build its walls when he had founded Thebes.
With him they set the stones in mortarwork,
And afterward they peopled all the town.
Good sowing Cadmus made, who so advanced
His people. If you do as well as he,
Your lineage may well endure as long.
" Two great advantages do you possess
To save your line, and if you lose the third
'Twill be because you are no more than fools.
A single disadvantage you must own:
On one side you're assailed; guard that wall well.
Most impotent would be three champions,
And well deserve their beating, if a fourth
They could not overcome. I speak of three
Who sisters are, of whom two are your aides.
The third alone will grieve you. She it is
Who cuts the thread of life. The two who help
Are Clotho, who the distaff always bears,
And Lachesis, who spins the living thread;
But Atropos dissevers it the while,
However much her sisters strive to spin.
'Tis Atropos who seeks to baffle you.
She's never far away, and all your line
Will sepulcher. On you she has her eyes!
There never was a fiercer animal;
No greater enemy you'll ever have.
" Have pity on yourselves, my noble lords!
Remember your old mothers and good sires.
'Tis by their deeds you're of their lineage;
See that their line's not forfeited by you —
Regard their prowess; see what they have done!
Themselves they well defended from the charge
Of slothfulness, for they to you gave life.
Had it not been for their good horsemanship,
You would not be here now. Great love for you
They had, and for the others who should come
Your lineage to maintain forevermore.
" Yourself should have a thought of friendliness.
Be not dismayed! The style you have; now write.
Don't muffle up your arms — blow, forge, and beat!
Aid Lachesis and Clotho, so that they,
If Atropos, who is so villainous,
Cuts off six threads, may spin a dozen more.
Bend all your powers to multiply the race;
So best the schemes of Atropos defy.
Felonious and cross-grained traitor wretch,
She ever seeks the living to destroy.
This woman foul, striving against all life,
Has heart so hardy that she feeds the dead
To Cerberus, the hellhound, who desires
So much their bodies he with longing burns
And well-nigh dies of hunger-nourished rage
Unless the harlot hastens to his aid;
For otherwise he'd have no sustenance
But she to feed him well will never cease;
And when this triple-headed dog's athirst,
He hangs upon her breasts, which are not twins
But triplets to accommodate three mouths.
His groins he pillows in her tender lap,
Muzzles her dugs and sucks and draws her milk.
He never has been weaned, nor e'er will be;
No other drink will satisfy his thirst,
Nor will another food his hunger end
Except the corpses of the human race.
Into his triple throat she mountains casts
Of men and women, which alone he eats,
And ever she attempts to fill his maw
But finds it empty, spite of all her pains.
The three avengers of all felonies —
Felons themselves, and harlots every one —
Alecto and Tisiphone by name;
Megaera is the third — I know them all —
Hover about in great anxiety
Around his food; and each would eat you whole
If Cerberus would give her any chance.
" These three await your entry into Hell.
They bind and beat and scourge and strangle you;
They scratch and wound and scorch and give you pain;
They choke and burn and grill and scald and boil
In presence of three provosts sitting there
In full consistory to judge those men
Who have committed crimes while still alive.
These provosts by their torturing extort
Confessions of the sins that men commit
From birth to death while living on the earth.
Before these judges all the people quake.
I'd be a coward not to name them here:
Three brothers — Rhadamanthus, Æacus,
And Minos — all the sons of Jupiter.
These three, on earth, according to the tale,
Such wise men were, and justice so maintained,
That they became, when dead, judges in Hell;
For Pluto waited long until their souls
Had left their bodies; then as fit reward
He gave them the office they so well deserved.
" For God's sake, seignors, fight against the sins
That our fair mistress, Nature, named to me
When she heard me say mass. She told me all.
I could not stay when more than twenty-six
I heard — more noxious sins than you'd believe.
If from the ordure of these crimes you're free,
The precincts of the harlots I have named,
Who have such ill renown, you'll never view;
Nor need you fear the condemnation just
Of those three provosts. I'd recount to you
These sins but that they too outrageous are.
But if it please you to consider them,
That from such vices you may guard yourselves,
Then read the rollicking Romance of the Rose ,
Which briefly will present them all to you.
" Strive, then, to lead the good life, one and all;
Let each embrace his sweetheart, and let her
In turn embrace her lover. Let them kiss,
Solace, and comfort one another so.
You never will be blamed for loyal love;
And, when you've played enough, as I advise,
Make your confession well, and promise give
All evil to forsake, to follow good,
And pray to God in Heaven, whom Nature owns
As her great master, that He will, in the end,
Come to your aid when Atropos shall seek
To bury you in Hell. He is the cure
Of body and of soul — the mirror He
Of Lady Nature. She had nothing known
Were it not for that mirror true and fair.
He rules and governs her; no other law
Has she than His. Whate'er she knows she learned
From Him when she at first was made his chamberlain. "