Classic Poem

PORTUGUESE LEGEND

A FARMER tilled his plot 'mid waste and wild;
One daughter dwelt with him, his only child;
And one man-servant did he entertain.

It fortuned on a day of wind and rain
A stranger lighted down his door beside,
And entered, and entreated for a guide:
" For I," he urged, " come hither from Brazil,
Bearing great store of gold, and it were ill
To chance on robbers in this solitude."

" Give," quoth the churl, not proffering drink or food,
" And this my hind shall help thee to thy way."

And so it was, but when at close of day
The knave returned, he rode the stranger's horse,
And, " Master," said he, " let us two discourse,
For I have somewhat for thy private ear."
" I hearken, speak."
" Thy daughter I hold dear,
And, an thou wilt, to marry her am fain."

" Varlet, what drunkenness hath crazed thy brain?
By Heaven! but thou shouldst taste of whip and thong,
Hadst thou not served me faithfully and long."

" Dear master," said the servant, " not so hot;
For know that in a solitary spot
I fell upon thy guest, and smote him dead,
And in the forest he lies buried,
And mine is every ingot and doubloon."

" Ha!" quoth his lord, " that chimes another tune:
My daughter's troth is thine, thou good young man;
Yet must thou go where this American
Thou hast disposed of, in the ground is laid,
And thrice and four times call upon his shade,
And ask of it what interval may be
Ere vengeance for this blood shall visit thee."
All joyous to the spot the murderer hied,
And as his lord commanded him he cried,
And shivered as there smote upon his ears
The sepulchre's deep answer, " Thirty years."

" Good," spake the sire, " my daughter thou may'st wed,
For ere the thirty years I shall be dead."

Yet lived he on, and when the thirty years
Were all accomplished, came two wanderers;
And he, with unaccustomed kindness, said,
" Let them come in and sup, and have a bed."

They entered then, but with a careless gait
Striding, one fellow kicked against a crate
Of country-stuff upon the floor, and broke
An egg. And when he saw the running yolk
That ancient sire began to rail and swear.

" Sir," said the tramp, " make not this thing a care,
For though I roam the country-side and beg,
Yet certes I can pay you for an egg."

" Pish for the egg," he said, " but well I see
That Fortune's wheel is turning back with me.
'Tis thirty years I gave my child her spouse,
And since have I inhabited this house
In plenty, with my daughter and my son;
These thirty years no deed of mercy done;
These thirty years known no minutest cross,
This shattered egg my solitary loss;
And now I harbour him who comes to beg,
And presently am poorer by an egg."

Yet had the men their supper and their bed,
And when the house was still, one whispering said,
" Art thou asleep?"
" Asleep! In faith not I.
I am not brave enough to shut an eye
Where thirty years no kindness hath been shown,
Or any grief or spite of fortune known,
Save for a broken egg. Upon the sand
This house is builded, and it will not stand."

" Too late another lodging-place to try."

" No matter, let us sleep beneath the sky,
That will not fall upon our heads."
So they
Stole forth, and in the open country lay.
An old wall-sheltered them, as best it might.
They slept, but soon upstarted in affright.
With one loud ruin all the country rung;
Trembling, each closer to his fellow clung,
Till, scarce emboldened by the breaking day,
Fearful and eager they bent back their way
To mark the manner of that mansion's fall;
But earth had swallowed and devoured it all.
Inmates and house had gone into the pit,
And nothing more was seen of them or it.