The Purgatory of St. Patrick | Page 8

mouth?Issued, is the true Evangel,?Is the doctrine of the Gospel:--?'Tis the word which I'm commanded?Unto thee to preach, O King!?To thy subjects and thy vassals,?To thy daughters, who shall be?Christians through its means.
KING. Cease, fasten?Thy presumptuous lips, vile Christian,?For thy words insult and stab me.
LESBIA. Stay!
POLONIA. And wilt thou in thy pity?Try to save him from his anger?
LESBIA. Yes.
POLONIA. Forbear, and let him die.
LESBIA. Thus to die by a king's hands here?Were unjust. [Aside.] (It is my pity?For these Christians prompts my answer.)
POLONIA. If this second Joseph then,?Like the first one, would unravel,?Would interpret the king's dreams,?Do not dread the result, my father;?For if my being seen to burn?Indicates in any manner?I should ever be a Christian,?As impossible a marvel?Such would be, as if, being dead,?I could rise and live thereafter.?But in order that your mind?May be turned from such just anger,?Let us hear now who this other?Stranger is.
LUIS. Then be attentive,?Beautiful divinity,?For my history thus commences:--?Great Egerius, King of Ireland,?I by name am Luis Enius,?And a Christian also, this?Being the sole point of resemblance?Betwixt Patrick and myself,?Yet a difference presenting:?For although we two are Christians,?So distinct and so dissevered?Are we, that not good from evil?Is more opposite in its essence.?Yet for all that, in defence?Of the faith I believe and reverence,?I would lose a thousand lives?(Such the esteem for it I cherish).?Yes, by God! The oath alone?Shows how firmly I confess Him.?I no pious tales or wonders,?Worked in my behalf by Heaven,?Have to speak of: no; dark crimes,?Robberies, murders, sacrileges,?Treasons, treacheries, betrayals,?Must I tell instead, however?Vain it be in me to glory?In my having such effected.?I in one of Ireland's many?Isles was born; the planets seven,?I suspect, in wild abnormal?Interchange of influences,?Must have at my hapless birth-time?All their various gifts presented.?Fickleness the Moon implanted?In my nature; subtle Hermes?With and genius ill-employed;?(Better ne'er to have possessed them);?Wanton Venus gave me passions --?All the flatteries of the senses,?And stern Mars a cruel mind?(Mars and Venus both together?What will they not give?); the Sun?Gave to me an easy temper,?Prone to spend, and when means failed me?Theft and robbery were my helpers;?Jupiter presumptuous pride,?Thoughts fantastic and unfettered,?Gave me; Saturn, rage and anger,?Valour and a will determined?On its ends; and from such causes?Followed the due consequences.?Here from Ireland being banished,?By a cause I do not mention?Through respect to him, my father?Came to Perpignan, and settled?In that Spanish town, when I?Scarce my first ten years had ended,?And when sixteen came, he died.?May God rest his soul in heaven!--?Orphaned, I remained the prey?Of my passions and my pleasures,?O'er whose tempting plain I ran?Without rein or curb to check me.?The two poles of my existence,?On which all the rest depended?For support, were play and women.?What a base on which to rest me!?Here my tongue would not be able?To acquaint you 'in extenso'?With my actions: a brief abstract?May, however, be attempted.?I, to outrage a young maiden,?Stabbed to death a noble elder,?Her own father: for the sake?Of his wife, a most respected?Cavalier I slew, as he?Lay beside her in the helpless?State of sleep, his honour bathing?In his blood, the bed presenting?A sad theatre of crimes,?Murder and adultery blended.?Thus the father and the husband?Life for honour's sake surrendered;?For even honour has its martyrs.?May God rest their souls in heaven!--?Dreading punishment for this,?I fled hastily, and entered?France, where my exploits, methinks,?Time will cease not to remember;?For, assisting in the wars?Which at that time were contended?Bravely betwixt France and England,?I took military service?Under Stephen, the French king,?And a fight which chance presented?Showed my courage to be such,?That the king himself, as guerdon?Of my valour, gave to me?The commission of an ensign.?How that debt I soon repaid,?I prefer not now to tell thee.?Back to Perpignan, thus honoured,?I returned, and having entered?Once a guard-house there to play,?For some trifle I lost temper,?Struck a serjeant, killed a captain,?And maimed others there assembled.?At the cries from every quarter?Speedily the watch collected,?And in flying to a church,?As they hurried to prevent me,?I a catch-pole killed. ('Twas something?One good work to have effected?'Mid so many that were bad.)?May God rest his soul in heaven!--?Far I fled into the country,?And asylum found and shelter?In a convent of religious,?Which was founded in that desert,?Where I lived retired and hidden,?Well taken care of and attended.?For a lady there, a nun,?Was my cousin, which connection?Gave to her the special burden?Of this care. My heart already?Being a basilisk which turned?All the honey into venom,?Passing swiftly from mere liking?To desire -- that monster ever?Feeding on the impossible --?Living fire that with intensest?Fury burns when most opposed --?Flame the wind revives and strengthens,?False, deceitful, treacherous foe?Which doth murder its possessor --?In a word, desire in him,?Who nor God nor law respecteth,?Of the horrible, of the shocking,?Thinks but only to attempt it.--?Yes, I dared . . . . But here disturbed,?When, my lord, I this remember,?Mute