{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/morris/ep1/ep113.htm","path":"neu/morris/ep1/ep113.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/morris/ep1/ep113.htm","text":"The Earthly Paradise, (March-August), by William Morris, [1868]\nHow on an Image that stood anciently in Rome were written certain words, which none understood, until a Scholar, coming there, knew their meaning, and thereby discovered great marvels, but withal died miserably.\nIN half-forgotten days of old,\n As by our fathers we were told,\n Within the town of Rome there stood\n An image cut of cornel wood,\n And on the upraised hand of it\n Men might behold these letters writ\u2014\n \"PERCUTE HIC:\" which is to say,\n In that tongue that we speak to-day,\n \"Strike here!\" nor yet did any know\n The cause why this was written so.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thus in the middle of the square,\n In the hot sun and summer air,\n The snow-drift and the driving rain,\n That image stood, with little pain,\n For twice a hundred years and ten; p. 441\n While many a band of striving men\n Were driven betwixt woe and mirth\n Swiftly across the weary earth,\n From nothing unto dark nothing:\n And many an Emperor and King,\n Passing with glory or with shame,\n Left little record of his name,\n And no remembrance of the face\n Once watched with awe for gifts or grace.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Fear little, then, I counsel you,\n What any son of man can do;\n Because a log of wood will last\n While many a life of man goes past,\n And all is over in short space.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now so it chanced that to this place\n There came a man of Sicily,\n Who when the image he did see,\n Knew full well who, in days of yore,\n Had set it there; for much strange lore,\n In Egypt and in Babylon,\n This man with painful toil had won;\n And many secret things could do;\n So verily full well he knew\n That master of all sorcery\n Who wrought the thing in days gone by,\n And doubted not that some great spell\n It guarded, but could nowise tell\n What it might be. So, day by day, p. 442\n Still would he loiter on the way,\n And watch the image carefully,\n Well mocked of many a passer-by.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And on a day he stood and gazed\n Upon the slender finger, raised\n Against a doubtful cloudy sky,\n Nigh noontide; and thought, \"Certainly\n The master who made thee so fair\n By wondrous art, had not stopped there,\n But made thee speak, had he not thought\n That thereby evil might be brought\n Upon his spell.\" But as he spoke,\n From out a cloud the noon sun broke\n With watery light, and shadows cold\n Then did the Scholar well behold\n How, from that finger carved to tell\n Those words, a short black shadow fell\n Upon a certain spot of ground,\n And thereon, looking all around\n And seeing none heeding, went straightway\n Whereas the finger's shadow lay,\n And with his knife about the place\n A little circle did he trace;\n Then home he turned with throbbing head,\n And forthright gat him to his bed,\n And slept until the night was late\n And few men stirred from gate to gate.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So when at midnight he did wake,\n Pickaxe and shovel did he take, p. 443\n And, going to that now silent square,\n He found the mark his knife made there,\n And quietly with many a stroke\n The pavement of the place he broke:\n And so, the stones being set apart,\n He \u2019gan to dig with beating heart,\n And from the hole in haste he cast\n The marl and gravel; till at last,\n Full shoulder high, his arms were jarred,\n For suddenly his spade struck hard\n With clang against some metal thing:\n And soon he found a brazen ring,\n All green with rust, twisted, and great\n As a man's wrist, set in a plate\n Of copper, wrought all curiously\n With words unknown though plain to see,\n Spite of the rust; and flowering trees,\n And beasts, and wicked images,\n Whereat he shuddered: for he knew\n What ill things he might come to do,\n If he should still take part with these\n And that Great Master strive to please.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But small time had he then to stand\n And think, so straight he set his hand\n Unto the ring, but where he thought\n That by main strength it must be brought\n From out its place, to! easily\n It came away, and let him see\n A winding staircase wrought of stone,p. 444\n Wherethrough the new-come wind did moan.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Then thought he, \"If I come alive\n From out this place well shall I thrive,\n For I may look here certainly\n The treasures of a king to see,\n A mightier man than men are now.\n So in few days what man shall know\n The needy Scholar, seeing me\n Great in the place where great men be,\n The richest man in all the land?\n Beside the best then shall I stand,\n And some unheard-of palace have;\n And if my soul I may not save\n In heaven, yet here in all men's eyes\n Will I make some sweet paradise,\n With marble cloisters, and with trees\n And bubbling wells, and fantasies,\n And things all men deem strange and rare,\n And crowds of women kind and fair,\n That I may see, if so I please,\n Laid on the flowers, or mid the trees\n With half-clad bodies wandering.\n There, dwelling happier than the king.\n What lovely days may yet be mine!\n How shall I live with love and wine,\n And music, till I come to die!\n And then\u2014\u2014Who knoweth certainly\n What haps to us when we are dead?\n Truly I think by likelihead p. 445\n Nought haps to us of good or bad;\n Therefore on earth will I be glad\n A short space, free from hope or fear;\n And fearless will I enter here\n And meet my fate, whatso it be.\"\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now on his back a bag had he,\n To bear what treasure he might win,\n And therewith now did he begin\n To go adown the winding stair;\n And found the walls all painted fair\n With images of many a thing,\n Warrior and priest, and queen and king,\n But nothing knew what they might be.\n Which things full clearly could he see,\n For lamps were hung up here and there\n Of strange device, but wrought right fair,\n And pleasant savour came from them.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0At last a curtain, on whose hem\n Unknown words in red gold were writ,\n He reached, and softly raising it\n Stepped back, for now did he behold\n A goodly hall hung round with gold,\n And at the upper end could see\n Sitting, a glorious company:\n Therefore he trembled, thinking well\n They were no men, but fiends of hell.\n But while he waited, trembling sore,\n And doubtful of his late-learned lore, p. 446\n A cold blast of the outer air\n Blew out the lamps upon the stair\n And all was dark behind him; then\n Did he fear less to face those men\n Than, turning round, to leave them there\n While he went groping up the stair.\n Yea, since he heard no cry or call\n Or any speech from them at all,\n He doubted they were images\n Set there some dying king to please\n By that Great Master of the art;\n Therefore at last with stouter heart\n He raised the cloth and entered in\n In hope that happy life to win,\n And drawing nigher did behold\n That these were bodies dead and cold\n Attired in full royal guise,\n And wrought by art in such a wise\n That living they all seemed to be,\n Whose very eyes he well could see,\n That now beheld not foul or fair,\n Shining as though alive they were.\n And midmost of that company\n An ancient king that man could see,\n A mighty man, whose beard of grey\n A foot over his gold gown lay;\n And next beside him sat his queen\n Who in a flowery gown of green\n And golden mantle well was clad, p. 447\n And on her neck a collar had\n Too heavy for her dainty breast;\n Her loins by such a belt were prest\n That whoso in his treasury\n Held that alone, a king might be.\n On either side of these, a lord\n Stood heedfully before the board,\n And in their hands held bread and wine\n For service; behind these did shine\n The armour of the guards, and then\n The well-attired serving-men,\n The minstrels clad in raiment meet;\n And over against the royal seat\n Was hung a lamp, although no flame\n Was burning there, but there was set\n Within its open golden fret\n A huge carbuncle, red and bright;\n Wherefrom there shone forth such a light\n That great hall was as clear by it,\n As though by wax it had been lit,\n As some great church at Easter-tide.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Now set a little way aside,\n Six paces from the dais stood\n An image made of brass and wood,\n In likeness of a full armed knight\n Who pointed \u2019gainst the ruddy light\n A huge shaft ready in a bow.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Pondering how he could come to know\n What all these marvellous matters meant, p. 448\n About the hall the scholar went,\n Trembling, though nothing moved as yet;\n And for awhile did he forget\n The longings that had brought him there\n In wondering at these marvels fair;\n And still for fear he doubted much\n One jewel of their robes to touch.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But as about the hall he passed\n He grew more used to them at last,\n And thought, \"Swiftly the time goes by,\n And now no doubt the day draws nigh\n Folk will be stirring: by my head\n A fool I am to fear the dead,\n Who have seen living things enow,\n Whose very names no man can know,\n Whose shapes brave men might well affright\n More than the lion in the night\n Wandering for food;\" therewith he drew\n Unto those royal corpses two,\n That on dead brows still wore the crown;\n And midst the golden cups set down\n The rugged wallet from his back,\n Patched of strong leather, brown and black.\n Then, opening wide its mouth, took up\n From off the board, a golden cup\n The King's dead hand was laid upon,\n Whose unmoved eyes upon him shone\n And recked no more of that last shame p. 449\n Than if he were the beggar lame,\n Who in old days was wont to wait\n For a dog's meal beside the gate.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of which shame nought our man did reck,\n But laid his hand upon the neck\n Of the slim Queen, and thence undid\n The jewelled collar, that straight slid\n Down her smooth bosom to the board.\n And when these matters he had stored\n Safe in his sack, with both their crowns,\n The jewelled parts of their rich gowns,\n Their shoes and belts, brooches and rings,\n And cleared the board of all rich things,\n He staggered with them down the hall..\n But as he went his eyes did fall\n Upon a wonderful green stone,\n Upon the hall-floor laid alone;\n He said, \"Though thou art not so great\n To add by much unto the weight\n Of this my sack indeed, yet thou,\n Certes, would make me rich enow,\n That verily with thee I might\n Wage one-half of the world to fight\n The other half of it, and I\n The lord of all the world might die;\u2014\n I will not leave thee;\" therewithal\n He knelt down midmost of the hall,\n Thinking it would come easily\n Into his hand; but when that he p. 450\n Gat hold of it, full fast it stack,\n So fuming, down he laid his sack,\n And with both hands pulled lustily,\n But as he strained, he cast his eye\n Unto the da\u00efs, and saw there\n The image who the great bow bare\n Moving the bowstring to his ear,\n So, shrieking out aloud for fear,\n Of that rich stone he loosed his hold\n And catching up his bag of gold,\n Gat to his feet: but ere he stood\n The evil thing of brass and wood\n Up to his ear the notches drew;\n And clanging forth the arrow flew,\n And midmost of the carbuncle\n Clanging again, the forked barbs fell,\n And all was dark as pitch straightway.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So there until the judgment day\n Shall come and find his bones laid low,\n And raise them up for weal or woe,\n This man must bide; cast down he lay\n While all his past life day by day\n In one short moment he could see\n Laid out before him, while that he\n In terror by that fatal stone\n Was laid, and scarcely dared to moan.\n But in a while his hope returned,\n And then, though nothing he discerned, p. 451\n He gat him up upon his feet,\n And all about the walls he beat\n To find some token of the door,\n But never could he find it more,\n For by some dreadful sorcery\n All was sealed close as it might be,\n And midst the marvels of that hall\n This scholar found the end of all.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But in the town on that same night,\n An hour before the dawn of light,\n Such storm upon the place there fell,\n That not the oldest man could tell\n Of such another: and thereby\n The image was burnt utterly,\n Being stricken from the clouds above;\n And folk deemed that same bolt did move\n The pavement where that wretched one\n Unto his foredoomed fate had gone,\n Because the plate was set again\n Into its place, and the great rain\n Washed the earth down, and sorcery\n Had hid the place where it did lie.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0So soon the stones were set all straight,\n But yet the folk, afraid of fate,\n Where once the man of cornel wood\n Through many a year of bad and good\n Had kept his place, set up alone\n Great Jove himself, cut in white stone, p. 452\n But thickly overlaid with gold.\n \"Which,\" saith my tale, \"you may behold\n Unto this day, although indeed\n Some Lord or other, being in need,\n Took every ounce of gold away.\"\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But now, this tale in some past day\n Being writ, I warrant all is gone,\n Both gold and weather-beaten stone.\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Be merry, masters, while ye may,\n For men much quicker pass away.\nTHEY praised the tale, and for awhile they talked\n Of other tales of treasure-seekers balked,\n And shame and loss for men insatiate stored,\n Nitocris\u2019 tomb, the Niflungs\u2019 fatal hoard,\n The serpent-guarded treasures of the dead;\n Then of how men would be remembered\n When they are gone; and more than one could tell\n Of what unhappy things therefrom befel;\n Or how by folly men have gained a name;\n A name indeed, not hallowed by the fame\n Of any deeds remembered: and some thought,\u2014\n 'Strange hopes and fears for what shall be but nought\n To dead men! better it would be to give\n What things they may, while on the earth they live\n Unto the earth, and from the bounteous earth\n To take their pay of sorrow or of mirth,\n Hatred or love, and get them on their way;\n And let the teeming earth fresh troubles make\n For other men, and ever for their sake\n Use what they left, when they are gone from it.'\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But while amid such musings they did sit,\n Dark night being come, men lighted up the hall,\n And the chief man for minstrelsy did call,\n And other talk their dull thoughts chased away,\n Nor did they part till night was mixed with day.","title":"The Earthly Paradise (March-August): May: The Writing on the Image","type":"page"}