Volume 2 — THE CURSE OF KEHAMA. (continued 2)

A brazen tower and gateway at each end

Of each was rais’d, where Giant Wardens stood,

Station’d in arms the passage to defend,

That never foe might cross the fiery flood.

Oh what a gorgeous sight it was to see

The Diamond City blazing on its height

With more than mid-sun splendour, by the light

Of its own fiery river!

Its towers and domes and pinnacles and spires,

Turrets and battlements, that flash and quiver

Through the red restless atmosphere for ever.

And hovering over head,

The smoke and vapours of all Padalon,

Fit firmament for such a world, were spread,

With surge and swell, and everlasting motion,

Heaving and opening like tumultuous ocean.

Nor were there wanting there

Such glories as beseem’d such region well;

For though with our blue heaven and genial air

The firmament of Hell might not compare,

As little might our earthly tempests vie

With the dread storms of that infernal sky,

Whose clouds of all metallic elements

Sublim’d were full. For, when its thunder broke,

Not all the united World’s artillery,

In one discharge, could equal that loud stroke;

And though the Diamond Towers and Battlements

Stood firm upon their adamantine rock,

Yet, while it vollied round the vault of Hell,

Earth’s solid arch was shaken with the shock,

And Cities in one mighty ruin fell.

Through the red sky terrific meteors scour;

Huge stones come hailing down; or sulphur-shower,

Floating amid the lurid air like snow,

Kindles in its descent,

And with blue fire-drops rains on all below.

At times the whole supernal element

Igniting, burst in one vast sheet of flame,

And roar’d as with the sound

Of rushing winds, above, below, around;

Anon the flame was spent, and overhead

A heavy cloud of moving darkness spread.

Straight to the brazen bridge and gate

The self-mov’d Chariot bears its mortal load.

At sight of Carmala,

On either side the Giant guards divide,

And give the chariot way.

Up yonder winding road it rolls along,

Swift as the bittern soars on spiral wing,

And lo! the Palace of the Infernal King!

Two forms inseparable in unity

Hath Yamen; even as with hope or fear

The Soul regardeth him doth he appear;

For hope and fear,

At that dread hour, from ominous conscience spring,

And err not in their bodings. Therefore some,

They who polluted with offences come,

Behold him as the King

Of Terrors, black of aspect, red of eye;

Reflecting back upon the sinful mind,

Heighten’d with vengeance, and with wrath divine,

Its own inborn deformity.

But to the righteous Spirit how benign

His awful countenance,

Where, tempering justice with parental love,

Goodness and heavenly grace

And sweetest mercy shine! Yet is he still

Himself the same, one form, one face, one will;

And these his twofold aspects are but one;

And change is none

In him, for change in Yamen could not be,

The Immutable is he.

He sate upon a marble sepulchre

Massive and huge, where, at the Monarch’s feet,

The righteous Baly had his judgement-seat.

A Golden Throne before them vacant stood;

Three human forms sustain’d its ponderous weight,

With lifted hands outspread, and shoulders bow’d

Bending beneath their load.

A fourth was wanting. They were of the hue

Of coals of fire; yet were they flesh and blood,

And living breath they drew;

And their red eye-balls roll’d with ghastly stare,

As thus, for their misdeeds, they stood tormented there.

On steps of gold those fiery Statues stood,

Who bore the Golden Throne. A cloud behind

Immoveable was spread; not all the light

Of all the flames and fires of Padalon

Could pierce its depth of night.

There Azyoruca veil’d her awful form

In those eternal shadows: there she sate,

And as the trembling Souls, who crowd around

The Judgement-Seat, received the doom of fate,

Her giant arms, extending from the cloud,

Drew them within the darkness. Moving out,

To grasp and bear away the innumerous rout,

For ever and for ever thus were seen

The thousand mighty arms of that dread Queen.

Here, issuing from the car, the Glendoveer

Did homage to the God, then rais’d his head.

Suppliants we come, he said,

I need not tell thee by what wrongs opprest,

For nought can pass on earth to thee unknown;

Sufferers from tyranny we seek for rest,

And Seeva bade us go to Yamen’s throne;

Here, he hath said, all wrongs shall be redrest.

Yamen replied, Even now the hour draws near,

When Fate its hidden ways will manifest.

Not for light purpose would the Wisest send

His suppliants here, when we, in doubt and fear,

The awful issue of the hour attend.

Wait ye in patience and in faith the end!

XXIV. THE AMREETA.

So spake the King of Padalon, when, lo!

The voice of lamentation ceas’d in Hell,

And sudden silence all around them fell,

Silence more wild and terrible

Than all the infernal dissonance before.

Through that portentous stillness, far away,

Unwonted sounds were heard, advancing on,

And deepening on their way;

For now the inexorable hour

Was come, and in the fullness of his power,

Now that the dreadful rites had all been done,

Kehama from the Swerga hastened down,

To seize upon the throne of Padalon.

He came in all his might and majesty,

With all his terrors clad, and all his pride;

And, by the attribute of Deity,

Which he had won from Heaven, self-multiplied,

The dreadful One appear’d on every side.

In the same indivisible point of time,

At the eight Gates he stood at once, and beat

The Warden-Gods of Hell beneath his feet;

Then, in his brazen Cars of triumph, straight,

At the same moment, drove through every gate.

By Aullays, hugest of created kind,

Fiercest, and fleeter than the viewless wind,

His Cars were drawn, ten yokes of ten abreast, . .

What less sufficed for such almighty weight?

Eight bridges from the fiery flood arose

Growing before his way; and on he goes,

And drives the thundering Chariot-wheels along,

At once o’er all the roads of Padalon.

Silent and motionless remain

The Asuras on their bed of pain,

Waiting, with breathless hope, the great event.

All Hell was hush’d in dread,

Such awe that omnipresent coming spread;

Nor had its voice been heard, though all its rout

Innumerable had lifted up one shout;

Nor if the infernal firmament

Had, in one unimaginable burst,

Spent its collected thunders, had the sound

Been audible, such louder terrors went

Before his forms substantial. Round about

The presence scattered lightnings far and wide,

That quench’d on every side,

With their intensest blaze, the feebler fire

Of Padalon, even as the stars go out,

When, with prodigious light,

Some blazing meteor fills the astonish’d night.

The Diamond City shakes;

The adamantine Rock

Is loosen’d with the shock;

From its foundation mov’d, it heaves and quakes;

The brazen portals crumbling fall to dust;

Prone fall the Giant Guards

Beneath the Aullays crush’d.

On, on, through Yamenpur, their thundering feet

Speed from all points to Yamen’s judgement-seat.

And lo! where multiplied,

Behind, before him, and on every side,

Wielding all weapons in his countless hands,

Around the Lord of Hell Kehama stands!

Then, too, the Lord of Hell put forth his might:

Thick darkness, blacker than the blackest night,

Rose from their wrath, and veil’d

The unutterable fight.

The power of Fate and Sacrifice prevail’d,

And soon the strife was done.

Then did the Man-God re-assume

His unity, absorbing into one

The consubstantiate shapes; and as the gloom

Opened, fallen Yamen on the ground was seen,

His neck beneath the conquering Rajah’s feet,

Who on the marble tomb

Had his triumphal seat.

Silent the Man-Almighty sate; a smile

Gleam’d on his dreadful lips, the while

Dallying with power, he paus’d from following up

His conquest, as a man in social hour

Sips of the grateful cup,

Again and yet again, with curious taste,

Searching its subtle flavour ere he drink.

Even so Kehama now forbore his haste;

Having within his reach whate’er he sought,

On his own haughty power he seem’d to muse,

Pampering his arrogant heart with silent thought.

Before him stood the Golden Throne in sight,

Right opposite; he could not chuse but see,

Nor seeing chuse but wonder. Who are ye

Who bear the Golden Throne, tormented there?

He cried; for whom doth Destiny prepare

The imperial seat? and why are ye but Three?

First Statue.

I of the Children of Mankind was first,

Me miserable! who, adding store to store,

Heapt up superfluous wealth; and now accurst,

For ever I the frantic crime deplore.

Second Statue.

I o’er my Brethren of Mankind the first

Usurping power, set up a throne sublime,

A King and Conqueror: therefore thus accurst,

For ever I in vain repent the crime.

Third Statue.

I on the Children of Mankind the first,

In God’s most holy name, impos’d a tale

Of impious falsehood; therefore thus accurst,

For ever I in vain the crime bewail.

Even as thou here beholdest us,

Here we have stood, tormented thus,

Such countless ages, that they seem to be

Long as eternity,

And still we are but Three.

A Fourth will come to share

Our pain, at yonder vacant corner bear

His portion of the burthen, and compleat

The golden Throne for Yamen’s judgement-seat.

Thus hath it been appointed: he must be

Equal in guilt to us, the guilty Three.

Kehama, come! too long we wait for thee!

Thereat, with one accord,

The Three took up the word, like choral song,

Come, Rajah! Man-God! Earth’s Almighty Lord!

Kehama, come! we wait for thee too long.

A short and sudden laugh of wondering pride

Burst from him in his triumph: to reply

Scornful he deign’d not; but with alter’d eye,

Wherein some doubtful meaning seem’d to lie,

He turn’d to Kailyal. Maiden, thus he cried,

I need not bid thee see

How vain it is to strive with Fate’s decree,

When hither thou hast fled to fly from me,

And lo! even here thou find’st me at thy side.

Mine thou must be, being doom’d with me to share

The Amreeta-cup of immortality;

Yea, by Myself I swear

It hath been thus appointed. Joyfully

Join then thy hand and heart and will with mine,

Nor at such glorious destiny repine,

Nor in thy folly more provoke my wrath divine.

She answer’d; I have said. It must not be!

Almighty as thou art,

Thou hast put all things underneath thy feet,

But still the resolute heart

And virtuous will are free.

Never, oh! never, . . never . . can there be

Communion, Rajah, between thee and me.

Once more, quoth he, I urge, and once alone.

Thou seest yon Golden Throne,

Where I anon shall set thee by my side;

Take thou thy seat thereon,

Kehama’s willing bride,

And I will place the Kingdoms of the World

Beneath thy Father’s feet,

Appointing him the King of mortal men:

Else underneath that Throne,

The Fourth supporter, he shall stand and groan;

Prayers will be vain to move my mercy then.

Again the Virgin answer’d, I have said!

Ladurlad caught her in his proud embrace,

While on his neck she hid

In agony her face.

Bring forth the Amreeta-cup! Kehama cried

To Yamen, rising sternly in his pride.

It is within the Marble Sepulchre,

The vanquish’d Lord of Padalon replied,

Bid it be opened. . . . Give thy treasure up!

Exclaim’d the Man-Almighty to the Tomb.

And at his voice and look

The massy fabric shook, and opened wide.

A huge Anatomy was seen reclin’d

Within its marble womb. Give me the Cup!

Again Kehama cried; no other charm

Was needed than that voice of stern command.

From his repose the ghastly form arose,

Put forth his bony and gigantic arm,

And gave the Amreeta to the Rajah’s hand.

Take! drink! with accents dread the Spectre said,

For thee and Kailyal hath it been assign’d,

Ye only of the Children of Mankind.

Then was the Man-Almighty’s heart elate;

This is the consummation! he exclaim’d,

Thus have I triumphed over Death and Fate.

Now, Seeva! look to thine abode!

Henceforth, on equal footing we engage,

Alike immortal now, and we will wage

Our warfare, God to God!

Joy fill’d his impious soul,

And to his lips he rais’d the fatal bowl.

Thus long the Glendoveer had stood,

Watching the wonders of the eventful hour,

Amaz’d but undismay’d; for in his heart

Faith, overcoming fear, maintain’d its power.

Nor had that faith abated, when the God

Of Padalon was beaten down in fight;

For then he look’d to see the heavenly might

Of Seeva break upon them. But when now

He saw the Amreeta in Kehama’s hand,

An impulse which denied all self-command

In that extremity

Stung him, and he resolved to seize the cup,

And dare the Rajah’s force in Seeva’s sight.

Forward he sprung to tempt the unequal fray,

When lo! the Anatomy,

With warning arm, withstood his desperate way,

And from the Golden Throne the fiery Three

Again, in one accord, renew’d their song,

Kehama, come! we wait for thee too long.

O fool of drunken hope and frantic vice!

Madman! to seek for power beyond thy scope

Of knowledge, and to deem

Less than omniscience could suffice

To wield omnipotence! O fool, to dream

That immortality could be

The meed of evil! . . yea thou hast it now,

Victim of thine own wicked heart’s device,

Thou hast thine object now, and now must pay the price.

He did not know the awful mystery

Of that divinest cup, that as the lips

Which touch it, even such its quality,

Good or malignant: Madman! and he thinks

The blessed prize is won, and joyfully he drinks.

Then Seeva opened on the Accursed One

His Eye of Anger: upon him alone

The wrath-beam fell. He shudders . . . but too late;

The deed is done,

The dreadful liquor works the will of Fate.

Immortal he would be,

Immortal he remains; but through his veins

Torture at once and immortality,

A stream of poison doth the Amreeta run,

Infinite everlasting agony.

And while within the burning anguish flows,

His outward body glows

Like molten ore beneath the avenging eye,

Doom’d thus to live and burn eternally.

The fiery Three,

Beholding him, set up a fiendish cry,

A song of jubilee:

Come, Brother, come! they sung; too long

We in our torments have expected thee;

Come, Brother, come! henceforth we bear no more

The unequal weight; Come, Brother, we are Four!

Vain his almightiness, for mightier pain

Subdued all power; pain ruled supreme alone.

And yielding to the bony hand

The unemptied cup, he mov’d toward the throne,

And at the vacant corner took his stand.

Behold the Golden Throne at length compleat,

And Yamen silently ascends the Judgement-Seat.

For two alone, of all mankind, to me

The Amreeta-Cup was given,

Then said the Anatomy;

The Man hath drank, the Woman’s turn is next.

Come, Kailyal, come, receive thy doom,

And do the Will of Heaven! . .

Wonder, and Fear, and Awe at once perplext

The mortal Maiden’s heart, but over all

Hope rose triumphant. With a trembling hand,

Obedient to his call,

She took the fated Cup; and, lifting up

Her eyes, where holy tears began to swell,

Is it not your command,

Ye heavenly Powers? as on her knees she fell,

The pious Virgin cried;

Ye know my innocent will, my heart sincere,

Ye govern all things still,

And wherefore should I fear!

She said, and drank. The Eye of Mercy beam’d

Upon the Maid: a cloud of fragrance steam’d

Like incense-smoke, as all her mortal frame

Dissolved beneath the potent agency

Of that mysterious draught; such quality,

From her pure touch, the fated Cup partook.

Like one entranced she knelt,

Feeling her body melt

Till all but what was heavenly past away:

Yet still she felt

Her spirit strong within her, the same heart,

With the same loves, and all her heavenly part,

Unchanged, and ripen’d to such perfect state,

In this miraculous birth, as here on Earth,

Dimly our holiest hopes anticipate.

Mine! mine! with rapturous joy Ereenia cried,

Immortal now, and yet not more divine;

Mine, mine. . . for ever mine!

The immortal Maid replied,

For ever, ever, thine!

Then Yamen said, O thou to whom, by Fate,

Alone of all mankind, this lot is given,

Daughter of Earth, but now the Child of Heaven

Go with thy heavenly Mate,

Partaker now of his immortal bliss;

Go to the Swerga Bowers,

And there recall the hours

Of endless happiness.

But that sweet Angel, for she still retain’d

Her human loves and human piety,

As if reluctant at the God’s commands,

Linger’d, with anxious eye

Upon her father fix’d, and spread her hands

Toward him wistfully.

Go! Yamen cried, nor cast that look behind

Upon Ladurlad at this parting hour,

For thou shalt find him in thy Mother’s Bower.

The Car, as Carmala his word obey’d,

Mov’d on, and bore away the Maid,

While from the Golden Throne the Lord of Death

With love benignant, on Ladurlad smil’d,

And gently on his head his blessing laid.

As sweetly as a child,

Whom neither thought disturbs nor care encumbers,

Tir’d with long play, at close of summer day,

Lies down and slumbers,

Even thus as sweet a boon of sleep partaking,

By Yamen blest, Ladurlad sunk to rest.

Blessed that sleep! more blessed was the waking!

For on that night a heavenly morning broke,

The light of heaven was round him when he woke,

And in the Swerga, in Yedillian’s Bower,

All whom he lov’d he met, to part no more.

THE END.