Selected Poems (142 page)

Authors: Byron

Tags: #Literary Criticism, #Poetry, #General

80	And fear,’ as the Greek says: for ‘purging the mind,’ I doubt if you’ll leave us an equal behind.
BOTHERBY : I have written the prologue, and meant to have pray’d
For a spice of your wit in an epilogue’s aid.
INKEL : Well, time enough yet, when the play’s to be play’d.
85	Is it cast yet?
BOTHERBY : The actors are fighting for parts,
As is usual in that most litigious of arts.
LADY BLUEBOTTLE : We’ll all make a party, and go the first night.
TRACY : And you promised the epilogue, Inkel.
INKEL :Not quite.
However, to save my friend Botherby trouble,
90	I’ll do what I can, though my pains must be double.
TRACY : Why so?
INKEL :To do justice to what goes before.
BOTHERBY : Sir, I’m happy to say, I have no fears on the score.
Your parts, Mr Inkel, are —
INKEL :Never mind mine ;
Stick to those of your play, which is quite your own line.
95	LADY BLUEMOUNT : Your’re a fugitive writer, I think, sir, of rhymes?
INKEL : Yes, ma’am; and a fugitive reader sometimes.
On Wordswords, for instance, I seldom alight,
Or on Mouthey, his friend, without taking to flight.
LADY BLUEMOUNT : Sir, your taste is too common; but time and posterity
100	Will right these great men, and this age’s severity
Become its reproach.
INKEL :I’ve no sort of objection,
So I’m not of the party to take the infection.
LADY BLUEBOTTLE : Perhaps you have doubts that they ever will take?
INKEL : Not at all; on the contrary, those of the lake
105	Have taken already, and still will continue
To take – what they can, from a groat to a guinea,
Of pension or place; – but the subject’s a bore.
LADY BLUEMOUNT : Well, sir, the time’s coming.
INKEL : Scamp! don’t you feel sore? What say you to this?
SCAMP :They have merit, I own;
110	Though their system’s absurdity keeps it unknown.
INKEL : Then why not unearth it in one of your lectures?
SCAMP : It is only time past which comes under my strictures.
LADY BLUEBOTTLE : Come, a truce with all tartness: — the joy of my heart
Is to see Nature’s triumph o’er all that is art.
115	Wild Nature! – Grand Shakspeare!
BOTHERBY :And down Aristotle!
LADY BLUEMOUNT : Sir George thinks exactly with Lady Bluebottle;
And my Lord Seventy-four, who protects our dear Bard,
, And who gave him his place, has the greatest regard
For the poet, who, singing of pedlers and asses,
120	Has found out the way to dispense with Parnassus.
TRACY : And you, Scamp! –
SCAMP :I needs must confess I’m embarrass’d.
INKEL : Don’t call upon Scamp, who’s already so harass’d With old schools , and new schools , and no schools ; and all schools .
TRACY : Well, one thing is certain, that some must be fools.
125	I should like to know who.
INKEL :And I should not be sorry
To know who are not : – it would save us some worry.
LADY BLUEBOTTLE : A truce with remark, and let nothing control
This ‘feast of our reason, and flow of the soul.’
Oh! my dear Mr Botherby! sympathise! – I
130	Now feel such a rapture, I’m ready to fly,
I feel so elastic — ‘so buoyant — so buoyant!’ — ¹
INKEL : Tracy! open the window.
TRACY :I wish her much joy on’t.
BOTHERBY : For God’s sake, my Lady Bluebottle, check not
This gentle emotion, so seldom our lot
135	Upon earth. Give it way; ’tis an impulse which lifts
Our spirits from earth; the sublimest of gifts;
For which poor Prometheus was chain’d to his mountain.
’Tis the source of all sentiment – feeling’s true fountain:
’Tis the Vision of Heaven upon Earth: ’tis the gas
140	Of the soul: ’tis the seizing of shades as they pass,
And making them substance: ’tis something divine: –
INKEL : Shall I help you, my friend, to a little more wine?
BOTHERBY : I thank you; not any more, sir, till I dine.
INKEL : A propos – Do you dine with Sir Humphry to-day?
145	TRACY : I should think with Duke Humphry was more in your way.
INKEL : It might be of yore; but we authors now look
To the knight, as a landlord, much more than the Duke.
The truth is, each writer now quite at his ease is,
And (except with his publisher) dines where he pleases.
150	But ’tis now nearly five, and I must to the Park.
TRACY : And I’ll take a turn with you there till ’tis dark. And you, Scamp –
SCAMP : Excuse me; I must to my notes,
For my lecture next week.
INKEL :He must mind whom he quotes
Out of ‘Elegant Extracts.’
LADY BLUEBOTTLE :Well, now we break up;
155	But remember Miss Diddle invites us to sup.
INKEL : Then at two hours past midnight we all meet again, For the sciences, sandwiches, hock, and champaigne!
TRACY : And the sweet lobster salad!
BOTHERBY :I honour that meal;
For ’tis then that our feelings most genuinely – feel.
160	INKEL : True; feeling is truest then , far beyond question:
I wish to the gods ’twas the same with digestion!
LADY BLUEBOTTLE : Pshaw! – never mind that; for one moment of feeling
Is worth – God knows what.
INKEL :’Tis at least worth concealing For itself, or what follows — But here comes your carriage.
165	SIR RICHARD [ aside ]: I wish all these people were d—d with my marriage!
[ Exeunt .]

THE VISION OF JUDGMENT

By Quevedo Redivivus

SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF ‘WAT TYLER.’

‘A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!

I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.’

PREFACE

It hath been wisely said, that ‘One fool makes many;’ and it hath been poetically observed,

‘That fools rush in where angels fear to tread.’ —
Pope
.

If Mr Southey had not rushed in where he had no business, and where he never was before, and never will be again, the following poem would not have been written. It is not impossible that it may be as good as his own, seeing that it cannot, by any species of stupidity, natural or acquired, be
worse.
The gross flattery, the dull impudence, the renegado intolerance and impious cant, of the poem by the author of ‘Wat Tyler,’ are something so stupendous as to form the sublime of himself – containing the quintessence of his own attributes.

So much for his poem – a word on his preface. In this preface it has pleased the magnanimous Laureate to draw the picture of a supposed ‘Satanic School,’ the which he doth recommend to the notice of the legislature; thereby adding to his other laurels the ambition of those of an informer. If there exists any where, excepting in his imagination, such a School, is he not sufficiently armed against it by his own intense vanity? The truth is, that there are certain writers whom Mr S. imagines, like Scrub, to have ‘talked of
him
; for they laughed consumedly.’

I think I know enough of most of the writers to whom he is supposed to allude, to assert, that they, in their individual capacities, have done more good, in the charities of life, to their fellow-creatures in any one year, than Mr Southey has done harm to himself by his absurdities in his whole life; and this is saying a great deal. But I have a few questions to ask.

1stly, Is Mr Southey the author of ‘Wat Tyler?’

2dly, Was he not refused a remedy at law by the highest judge of his beloved England, because it was a blasphemous and seditious publication?

3dly, Was he not entitled by William Smith, in full parliament, ‘a rancorous renegado?’

4thly, Is he not poet laureate, with his own lines on Martin the regicide staring him in the face?

And, 5thly, Putting the four preceding items together, with what conscience dare
he
call the attention of the laws to the publications of others, be they what they may?

I say nothing of the cowardice of such a proceeding; its meanness speaks for itself; but I wish to touch upon the
motive,
which is neither more nor less than that Mr S. has been laughed at a little in some recent publications, as he was of yore in the ‘Anti-jacobin’ by his present patrons. Hence all this ‘skimble scamble stuff’ about ‘Satanic,’ and so forth. However, it is worthy of him – ‘
qualis ab incepto.
’

If there is any thing obnoxious to the political opinions of a portion of the public in the following poem, they may thank Mr Southey. He might have written hexameters, as he has written everything else, for aught that the writer cared – had they been upon another subject. But to attempt to canon-ise a monarch, who, whatever were his household virtues, was neither a successful nor a patriot king, – inasmuch as several years of his reign passed in war with America and Ireland, to say nothing of the aggression upon France, – like all other exaggeration, necessarily begets opposition. In whatever manner he may be spoken of in this new ‘Vision,’ his
public
career will not be more favourably transmitted by history. Of his private virtues (although a little expensive to the nation) there can be no doubt.

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