PHILIP THE KING AND OTHER POEMS THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NHW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO PHILIP THE KING AND OTHER POEMS BY JOHN MASEFIELD Neil) lark THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1914 All rights reterved Copyright, 1913, by Harper and Brothers. Copyright, 1914, by The Century Company and by the McClure Publications. COPTKIGHT, 1914, By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1914. Norfaooli iPr Those men, those crimes, those great at- tempts, those tears. Sorrows and terrors of a twisted earth, Into this fleet, this death, this Dragon's birth ; I who have never seen it, nor shall see. Princess. I shall thank God that it was shown to me ; I saw it sail. Philip. You saw my heart's blood, child. PHILIP THE KING 15 Princess. All a long summer day those ships defiled. I never saw so many nor so grand; They wandered down the tide and cleared the land, And ranked themselves like pikemen, clump to clump. Then in the silence came the Admiral's trump, And from those hundreds of expectant ships, From bells and cannonade and sailors' lips, And from the drums and trumpets of the foot Burst such a roaring thunder of salute As filled my heart with wonder like a cup. They cheered St. James's banner going up — Golden St. James, whose figure blew out fair. High on the flagship's mast in the blue air, Rippling the gold. Then all the city bells, 16 PHILIP THE KING Fired like the singing spheres some spirit impels, Rang in the rocking belfries, the guns roared. Each human soul there shook like tautened cord. And to that Christian march the singing priests Bore up the blessed banners. Even the beasts Ramped at the challenge of that shouting crowd. Then, as the wind came fair, the Armada bowed. Those hundreds of great vessels, ranked in line. Buried their bows and heaped the bubbled brine In gleams before them. So they marched; the van, Led by De Ley va, like slipped greyhounds, ran PHILIP THE KING 17 To spy the English. On the right and left By Valdes and his friend the seas were cleft ; Moncada's gallies weltered like a weir, Flanking Recalde, bringing up the rear, While in the midst St. James's banner marched, Blowing towards England till the flagpole arched. Onward they swept the sea, the flagship's side Smoked from her cannon's hail ; she took her stride. Leaned and stretched forward. I was conscious then That I beheld the greatest fleet that men Ever sent seaward ; all the world was there, All nations that begem the crown you wear, Pikemen of Rome, whose settled pikes had stood 18 PHILIP THE KING Stern in full many a welter of man's blood. Cunning Levantines, armed with crooked swords, Venetians bronzed, the ocean's overlords, Pisans and knights of Malta, Ferrarese, Passionate half-bloods from the Indian seas, Hollanders, Austrians, even English, come To bring again religion to their home ; Spain too, our Andalusians, and the hale Iberian Basquers used to hunt the whale — The flower of the knighthood of the world Mustered beneath the banner you unfurled. And that was but the half, for there in France Was Parma's army ready to advance, Death-coupled bloodhounds straining to the slip, Waiting your navy's coming to take ship. Father, such power awed me. PHILIP THE KING 19 Philip. Time and I Worked for long years. Princess. And when it had passed by The bells were silent, and a sigh arose Of joy in that fleet's pride, and grief for those Who, even if all went well, had looked their last On men and women who had made their past. Then darkness came, and all that I could see Was the horizon where the fleet must be — A dimming skyline with a setting star. It was as though they died; and now, who knows What has befallen them, or where they are? 20 I'll 111 I' THE KING And iiight by sleepless night my trouble grows. This daily silence has been hard to bear, But now I dread news worse. Philip. We must prepare, Hopinp; the best, but ready for the worst ; But patient still, for rumour must come first — Rumour and broken news and seamen's lies; Patience, expecting nothing, is most wise. If God vouchsafes it, we shall hear to-day. Lighten your heart, my daughter. Princess. I will pray — Pray for a Spanij-ih triumph. Philip. Pray for me. Prnv for God's cause adventured on the sea. PHILIP THE KING 21 Princess. I will; God help my prayer. Philip. God help us both. [^he goes. Lord, I have laboured long to keep my oath, And since my loved one died it has been hard. Lord, my God, in blessed mercy guard My only friend De Leyva, now at sea; Keep him, Lord, and bring him home to me. Lord, be thou his bulwark and his guide ; 1 am so lonely since nay loved one died. How splendidly the nations hold their way, Marching with banners through the fields of Time! 22 PHILIP THE KING Who sees the withered King weary and grey, Prompting it all with secret lust or crime? Who guesses at the heavy brain behind? I am Earth's greatest man; the world is blind. {He droops over his papers. Starting up.) I have still strength, and I must read these scrolls, Or else all goes to ruin; I must read. {He sleeps.) Voices. Philip ! Philip. Who calls? The Indians enter. Voices. We are the Indian souls, Loosed from the gold-mines where our brothers bleed. We swell the tale of blood: we dug you gold ; PHILIP THE KING 23 We bore your burdens till we died of thirst ; We sweated in the mines or shook with cold, Washing the gravel which the blast had burst. We dived for pearls until our eyeballs bled; You burned us till we told where treasure lay. We were your Indian slaves, but we are dead; Our red account is cast and you must pay. A Voice. Our lives paid for your fleet; you pay for us. The unjustly killed restore the balance thus. A Voice. They flung my little baby to the hounds. 24 PHILIP THE KING A Voice. They took my daughter from me for their lust. A Voice. Even the weak are strong beyond Ufe's bounds ; We myriad weak add power to the thrust. Voices. Phihp! PhiUp! PhiUp! We gather from over the sea To the justice that has to be While the blind red bull goes on. Philip ! Philip ! Philip ! We who were ciphers slain In a tale of the pride of Spain Are a part of her glory gone. A Voice. We see them where our will can help their foes. PHILIP THE KING 26 A Voice. Quick, brother, quick! another galleon goes! Waken those sleeping gunners by the fire, Or she'll escape unracked. [They fadeaway. Philip. The voices tire. They go. I dreamed. I slept. My heavy head Is drowsed. What man is that? (Don John appears, with Escovedo he- hind him.) Voice of Don John of Austria. I am the dead; I am your brother, Philip — brother John. Philip. You corpse-fetch from the unclean grave, begone ! I had no brother. 26 PHILIP THE KING Don John. Would you never had! Philip. You were a landmark of my father's sin, Never my brother. Don John. I was that bright lad, Your father's son, my brother; I helped win Great glory for you, Philip. Philip. I agreed To overlook your bastardy, my friend. So long as your bright talents served my need; But you presumed, and so it had to end. Don John. My talents served you well. Philip. They did, at first. PHILIP THE KING 27 Don John. I won the Battle of Lepanto for you. Philip. And afterwards you killed my troops with thirst, Following a crazy scheme which overbore you. Don John. Not crazy, unsuccessful. Philip. Poor vain ghost, Poor flickering candle that was bright awhile. Don John. I was the man whom Europe worshipped most, One with a mighty plan which you thought guile. Why did you kill me, Philip? Philip. You betrayed me, Or would have, traitor, had I not been wise. 28 PHILIP THE KING Don John. I was your board's best piece, you should have played me, Now I am dead and earth is in my eyes. I could have won you England. I had planned To conquer England. I had all prepared Ships, soldiers, money, but your cruel hand Killed me, and nothing's done and noth- ing's dared. Philip. You planned to conquer England and be Those who obstruct my path I sweep aside. Don John. Brother, there is a time for everything; That was the time for England, but I died; Now you attempt too late, The powers have closed the gate. PHILIP THE KING 29 Destiny enters by another door, The lost chance conies no more. The Voice of Escovedo. Phihp, he tells the truth. We could have won England for you, we were no plotters then. Voices. Philip, you were betrayed, j^ou were un- done. You had the moment, but you killed the men. Escovedo. The liar, Perez, tricked you. great King ! We would have added England to your crown, Now the worms cling About our lips deep down. You had me stabbed at midnight going home 30 PHILIP THE KING That man of Perez' stabbed me in the back. And then I could not stir, down on the loam ; The sky was full of blood, the stars were black. And then I knew my wife and children waited But that I could not come ; a moving hand Had interposed a something fated 'Twixt us and what we planned. Don John. You had me poisoned in that Holland den, Outcast, alone, without the help of men. We planned a glorious hour Hoisting the banner of Spain On the top of London Tower, With England a Spanish fief. Life cannot happen again. And doing dies with the brain ; PHILIP THE KING 31 Autumn ruins the flower And after the flower the leaf. Voices. Philip, PhiUp, Philip! The evil men do has strength, It gathers behind the veils While the unjust thing prevails. While the pride of life is strong. But the balance tips at length, And the unjust things are tales. The pride of life is a song. Philip. I kept my purpose while you hved. Shall I Be weaker, now that you are dead, you things ? What can such reedy wretches do but die Standing against the purposes of Kings? Don John. Do? We can thwart you. 32 philip the king Voices. And we will, we will ; All Spain's unjustly murdered work you ill. Gather against him, gather, mock him down. The Voice of the Marquis of Santa Cruz. Scatter, you shadows, fly. Philip, great Iving. You vultures gathered in an unclean ring ; Away, you shadows, scatter. They are gone, Philip. The Marquis enters. Phiup. Wlio caUs? Santa Cruz. Master. Philip. Let me dream on. "VMiose voice was that ? It warned me of defeat. PHILIP THE KING 33 Santa Cruz. I am that Santa Cruz who built your fleet, And died to make it good. It was my child. I call because my work has been defiled. Philip. Why rail, uneasy soul? Santa Cruz. If I had spent Less life in that, I should be still alive. Commanding what I built to my content. Driving the English slaves as conquerors drive. Why did you give away my splendid sword. Forged by a never-conquered captain's brain. Into the hoof-hand of an ambling lord, Useless in all things, but to ruin Spain? Would God I had but guessed it! Would my stars 34 PHILIP THE KING Had shown me clearer what my death would bring, I would have burned those galleons, guns and spars, Soldiers and all, and so have stopped this thing. And doing that I should have sers'ed you well, And brought less ruin on this lovely land. What folly from the unfed brain of hell Made you promote that thing to my com- mand ? — Folly from which so many men must die. Philip. We stand against all comers, Time and I. I chose the Duke because I wanted one . . . Wlio . . . Santa Cruz. Give no reason for the e^nl done. Souls wrestle from the ever deedless grave PHILIP THE KING 35 To do, not to hear reason. Oh, great King, You still may sa\'e the ruin of this thing! Philip. You speak of ruin. Tell me what you see. Santa Cruz. Ruin that threatens, but need never be. Be silent, Philip ; listen while I tell Wliat you must do. Philip. You are a voice from hell; I will not listen to these obscene dreams. Santa Cruz. Life is a heavy cloud, through which come gleams. Oh, PhiHp, let me speak! PhiHp, I say, One wa}' can still be tried ; I see the way. You must do this, but listen. Philip. I still doubt. 36 philip the kixg Santa Cruz. Listen, groat King: the light is dying out. Yon are fading from me, Philip : they are coming. Before it is too late for ever send . . . Send ? Yes. To whom? To . . . Philip. Santa Cruz. Philip. Santa Cruz. Voices. Drown his voice with drmmning; Pipe with the Inca conch, the Indian flute. \Miat rod tlowei-s spring from this blood- sprinklevi root ! Phi UP. What n:nno was that you Siiid? Santa Ckuz. Wait, Philip — wait ; Thev are so manv and so full of hate. philip the kixg 37 Voices. Call to your monarch, ^Marquis — call again. Philip. Something he meant is knocking at my brain — Knocking for entrance. ^larquis! Santa Cruz. Philip ! Iving ! Philip. \Miat must I do? Santa Cruz. Oh, fiends! Voices. Ah. conquerors, sing! Now we have triumphed. We have torn the flag. Dance in a ring, \'ictorious spirits, dance ; Brought to a b>'word is the Spanish brag, And ruined is the grand inheritance. Mourn, wTetched Phihp. for your plan? are checked ; 38 PHILIP THE KING Your colonies defenceless; your sweet faith Mocked by the heretics ; your ships are wrecked ; The strength of Spain has dwindled to a wraith. Aha ! you beaten Iving, you blinded fool ! Scream, for the empire tumbles from your rule. Philip. God will deliver me ; j'ou are but words Called in the night-time by malignant birds But who are you? The figure of De Leyva enters. Voice of De Ley\'a. I am De Lej'^^a, come Out of the sea, my everlasting home, To whisper comfort to my ruined friend. Dear, I am dead, but friendship cannot end ; Love does not die, and I am with you here. Often in sorrow you will feel me near, PHILIP THE KING 39 Feel me, but never speak, nor hear me speak. Philip, whatever bitter Fate may wreak On Spain and j'ou, remember I am here, The dead are bound to those they held most dear. Philip. Dreams of the night. I dreamed De Leyva came. Voices. Awake to hear the story of your shame. {They cry. A gun is shot off. Bells.) Philip. (Rousing.) I dreamed I was defeated Uke those men WTiom I defeated ; I have felt their woe. "WTiat is this noise? A message? Enter then. Princess. A prisoner comes with news of \'ictory. Philip. So. Victory comes! We win! 40 PHILIP THE KING Princess. The fleet has won! Philip. Thanks be to God on high. Princess. His will be done. Philip. Lord, help me use this victory for Thy praise. Lord, Thou hast burst this night of many days With glorious morning and my heart is full. O God, my God, Thy ways are wonderfuU Bring me the prisoner. Princess. He brought this letter. An Englishman is brought in. Philip. You are an Englishman? Prisoner. Yes, your Majesty. PHILIP THE KING 41 Philip. This letter says that you can tell me how things have fared. Tell me your story. Pkisoner. I was at sea, my lord, fishing, some fifteen miles south-west from Falmouth. We were not expecting the Spanish fleet, our cruisers had said it was not coming. It was hazy summer weather and early morning. We could hear that we were among a big fleet, and when the haze lifted your ships were all round us, so we were taken aboard an ad- miral's ship. A dark man the admiral was, with a very quick w^ay ; he was not the chief admiral, but an Admiral Recalde, with the rearguard. Philip. Where was the English fleet at that time? Was it expecting us ? 42 PHILIP THE KING Prisoner. No, your honour. It was windboiind in Plymouth, unprepared, as I told your ad- miral. Then I was taken down below. Philip. Did our fleet enter Plymouth, then ? Prisoner. No, my lord, and I could not think why, for the wind held and they had only to sail straight in. The day passed. The next day there was firing, and I thought "The Enghsh have got out of the trap at least," but the firing died down, and I concluded the English were beaten. Philip. Yes? Prisoner. I thought the ships would put ashore then to take what they had won, but they kept at sea some days, though there was firing every day, sometimes very heavy. They said PHILIP THE KING 43 they were burning all the English towns as they passed, and then going to France to fetch an army ; and after some nights I was brought ashore in Calais to come to your Majesty. Philip. What did you see in Calais ? Prisoner. It was dark night, my lord, when they sent me in. I saw the road full of shipping, lit up like a town. Philip. What was the feeling among you English prisoners? That the Spaniards had pros- pered ? Prisoner. Yes, my lord. You had reached your army, which was all your intent. You had only to take it across the Channel ; the wind was fair for that. 44 PHILIP THE KING Philip. So then you started for Spain. You know- no more of what happened ? Prisoner. No, my lord, except that looking back from a hilltop, I saw a great glare over Calais. Philip. Something was burning there? Prisoner. It was the bonfires, my lord, to give them light; they were embarking the army. Then in France later on we heard that Drake had been sunk off Calais with fifteen ships. A man said he had seen it. That is all I know, my lord. Philip. What you say will be proved. You will be returned to England. Treat this man well. [Exit Prisoner. PHILIP THE KING 45 Princess. Father, what blessed news! Philip. We have not failed ; But then he hardly knew. The letter here Shows that our navy partly has prevailed. Princess, The news has spread. Cries Without. Long live King Philip ! Cheer ! Cries. Cheer our great King ! Long live our noble King. Beat "Santiago," drummers. Princess.' Hark! they sing. The court is dark with people, but more come. Cries. Long Uve King PhiHp ! 46 PHILIP THE KING A Great Voice. Silence for the drum! And when the drum beats, we will lift our thanks Till his heart triumphs. Silence in the ranks ! Eyes front ! people, listen ! Our attempt Has triumphed more than our desires dreamt. England is ours. Give thanks. Sound trumpets. Sing ! Cries. Philip, Philip the King! God save the King ! Philip the conqueror! Philip! (A strayige cry.) Princess. Oh, look ! look ! . . . Just as they cheered, the palace banners shook, They took it for a sign. PHILIP THE KING 47 The guards are there, Look, and the monks are forming in the square Bringing the blessed relics. Oh, my dear! I am so happy. Listen how they cheer. Father, they're cheering because Spain has won. All you have hoped and striven for is done. I hardly dare believe it. Cries. Long live Spain. Princess. O, there are horsemen, I must look again ! Cries. There is the Princess at the window. See? God save you, little lady. Which is she? There. Is the King there? No. He must be. Yes. God save your Grace. He's there with the Princess. 48 PHILIP THE KINO Philip. Stand farther back; they saw you. Princess. Oh, not now ! They called 'God save me,' father; let me bow. Philip. Bow, then, my dear. Cries. God save your pretty face. Princess. Father, do come, they want you. Cries. Bless your Grace. God save the King — Iving PliiUp. Princess. Father dear, They're callmg for you; stand beside me here. Philip. Not yet. It is not time. PHILIP THE KING 49 Cries. Philip the King! Princess. Oh, father, come! It is a thrilhng thing To know they won, and hear these shouts of praise. Cries. God save the King! God send him many days! Philip the King, the conqueror of the sea! St. James for Spain, King Phihp, victory ! King Philip ! Santiago ! Princess. Father. Philip. Wait! Kings must not yield them at too cheap a rate. Voices. Philip the King ! The English are destroyed ! God save him ! Victory ! We are overjoyed ! 50 PHILIP THE KING Let the bells ring! King Philip! Philip! Iving ! Ring the Cathedral bells — ay, let them ring ! St. Jaines for Spain! King Philip! Clear the guns ! (Guns shot off-) King Philip, fire — fire all at once ! King Philip, fire! King Philip, fire! St. Jaines ! Thank God, the King of kings, the Name of names ! Fire, King Philip ! Santiago, fire ! Give thanks to God who gives us our desire ! Philip, God save and bless him ! Philip (going to windoiu). I will speak. Voices. Fire! He's there! Iving Philip! Philip. ]\Ian is weak. Voices. He's there! HllILIl' THE KING 61 Princess. Oh, father, look ! Philip. Stand at my side. Voices. God bless and guard our blessed country's guide ! King Philip, fire! The King! {The bells begin.) Princess. Oh, bells of joy! And now the monks are singing. The Monks. Let us give thanks unto the Lord of lords, Who saves His faithful from the Egyptian swords. Voices. Amen. God save the King. The Monks. He made the Red Sea waters to divide, And led our Israel through with Him for guide. 52 PHILIP THE KING Voices. Amen. God save the King! Philip the King! Philip. God, I thank Thee for this marvellous thing. The Monks. He whelmed King Pharaoh's anny in the sea, And of His mercy gave us victory. Voices. The famous kings are blown, like chaff Before Thy fiery car. Thou smit'st th' ungodly with Thy staff . . . PhiUp the King! God save our prudent King ! Philip. My subjects, whom God gave me for His ends . . . Princess. Whatever pain you bore, this makes amends. Voices. Speak to your loving hearts, your Majesty. I'liiiJi' rill': KiNd 63 I fif) Ilis will; to (io(J \\\{'. t!;lory ho. The Monkb. Praise ITim, Huri .'ind uxoow, morning and evening ntar! The kings wlio mocked IliH wonJ ;ir(', hrokcri in U)(; war. Praise Ilim with Iieari and soul I Praise Ilim wil,li voicf; and hiU; I VorcEfl. The King! Co(J save the King! Silence;! He Hpeakn. Salute ! The Monks. In the dark night, en; dawn, we will arise and sing Glory to God on high, the praises of our King. VOICEB. The King is going to speak. He makes a sign. God bless your noble Grace and all your line ! 64 PHILIP THE KING God bless you, Sir, for all your thought for us ! The conquering King, Philip victorious ! Philip the great and good ! Hush ! Silence ! Peace ! Philip ! Attention ! Bid the ringers cease. The King is going to speak; he raised his hand. Princess. Dear, to be loved as you are is most grand. Speak to them, father ; thank them for their love. The Monks. I will exalt the Name of God above. Voices. The bells are hushed. Be quiet! Silence all! Philip. I thought I heard, far off, a funeral call ; As in your dream, a melancholy cry. Princess. It was the fifes. rillLlF THE KING 56 Philip. No ; listen ! Princess. That sound ? Philip. Ay. Princess. It was the crowd outside. Now they are still. Philip. No ; it was singing coming up the hill — Sad singing, too. Princess. I did not hear it. Philip. There ! Princess. The bells have left a trembling in the air. Philip. No ; it was voices. I will speak one word To these below. There is the noise I heard (Recalde's men are heard singing.) 56 PHILIP THE KING Recalde's Men. Out of the deep, out of the deep, we come, Preserved from death at sea to die at home. Mercy of God alone preserved us thus ; In the waste sea Death laid his hand on us. Princess. The Black Monks in a penitential psalm. Voices. Philip the King ! Philip. I'll wait. Peincess. Oh, speak! Philip. Be calm! I cannot cross God's word with words of mine. Voices. Quiet, you singers! Princess. They are men in line. (Recalde's men are heard singing.) PHILIP THE KING 57 Recalde's Men. We called the world too small with boast- ful hps; Now we are ghosts crawled from the bones of ships. We w^ere most glorious at our setting sail; Now our knees knock, our broken spirits fail. Our banner is abased and all our pride : A tale of ships that sank and men who died. Princess. Listen! Who are they? Philip. What is it they sing? Voices. The King is speaking. Silence for the King! Let the King speak ; be still. You ragged crew, Have you no manners ? Silence ! Who are you? 58 PHILIP THE KING Recalde's Men. We are the beaten men, the men accursed, Whose bitter glory 'tis t' have borne the worst. Princess. They are not monks. Philip. Nor beggars. Princess. Now they stand. Voices. Yon navy's sweepings driven back to land. Go to the hens and tunnies; beat them down Back to the sea you ran from; back and drown. Recalde's Men. Pity our shame, you untried heroes here. Defeat's not victory, but 'tis bought as dear. PHILIP THE KING 59 Philip. They are sailors from the fleet. Princess. They come with news. They are ragged to the skin, they have no shoes. Philip. The crowd is still. Princess. Why do they come like this? Philip. Listen ; their Captain tells them what it is. Recalde's Men. Darken the bedrooms for us, people all. And let us turn our faces to the wall, And let the darkness and the silence make A quiet time in which our hearts may break. {A murmur runs through the Court.) Princess. Father, what is it? 60 PHILIP THE KING Philip. Child, the Act of One Wlio chastens earthly kings, whose Will be done. Princess. It means that we are beaten? Philip. Who can tell? Princess. Father. Philip. Dear child, even defeat is well. Princess. I thought that we were happy. Philip. Watch the square. Now tell me calmly what is passing there. Princess. The Captain comes, the crowd is making way. Philip. Who is it? Can you see? PHILIP THE KING 61 Princess. His hair is grey. He walks bareheaded, slowly, ^nd the crowd Shrink as though Death were passing in his shroud. Philip. Worse news has come. Who is the man? Princess. His face . . . I seem to know him, but the air is strange. He puts the touch of Death upon the place. Nothing but Death could fashion such a change. He carries something. Now the people kneel. We are defeated, Father. Philip. What I feel I cover. Go within. Misfortune stuns None but the tender. [Exit Princess. 62 PHILIP THE KING Voices. Give us back our sons. Philip, give back our sons, our lovely sons. The Palace Guard. Halt! Who comes there? A Voice. Spain and the Empire. The Guard. Pass, Spain and the Empire. Voices. They are drowned. Alas! Philip, give back our sons, our lovely sons. Enter Messenger, carrying an Admiral's chain. Philip. What brings you to me, Captain? Messenger. This gold chain . . . Bears the twelve badges of the strength of Spain PHILIP THE KING 63 Once linked in glory, Philip, but now loosed. (Detaching link from link.) Castilla, Leon, Aragon, and these, Palestine, Portugal, the Sicilies, Navarre, Granada, the Valencian State, The Indies, East and West, the Archducate, The Western Mainland in the Ocean Sea. Those who upheld their strength have ceased to be. I, who am dying, King, have seen their graves. Philip, your Navy is beneath the waves. Philip. He who in bounty gives in wisdom takes. Messenger. King, forgive me, for my spirit breaks; 1 saw those beaches where the Grange de- scends White with unburied corpses of stripped friends. 64 PHILIP THE KING Philip. I grieve that Spain's disaster brings such loss. Messenger. From Pentland to the Groyne the tempests toss Unshriven Spaniards driving with the tide. They were my lovely friends and they have died, Far from wind-broken Biscay, far from home, With no anointing chrism but the foam. Philip. The dead will rise from unsuspected slime ; God's chosen will be gathered in God's time. Messenger. King, they died helpless ; our unwieldy fleet Made such a target to the English guns That we were riddled through like sifted wheat. PHILIP THE KING 65 We never came to grappling with them once. They raked us from a distance, and then ran. Each village throughout Spain has lost a man ; The widows in the seaports fill the streets. Philip. Uncertain chance decides the fate of fleets. Messenger. Now the North Sea is haunted for all time By miserable souls whose dying words Cursed the too proud adventure as a crime. Our broken galleons house the gannet- birds. The Irish burn our Captain's bones for lime. O misery that the might of England wrought ! 66 PHILIP THE KING Philip. Christ is the only remedy for thought When the mind sickens. We are pieces played, Not moving as we will, but as we are made; Beaten and spurred at times like stubborn steeds, That we may go God's way. Your spirit bleeds, Having been proved in trouble past her strength. Give me the roll in all its ghastly length. Which of my friends survive, if any live? Messenger. Some have survived, but all are fugitive. Your Admiral in command is living still; Michael Oquendo too, though he is ill. Dying of broken heart and bitter shame. Valdes is prisoner, Manrique the same. FHILIV THE KING 67 Philip. God willed the matter; they are not to blame. Thank God that they are living. Name the rest. Messenger. They are all dead . . . with him you loved the best. Philip. I dreamed De Leyva died, so it is true? Messenger. Drowned on the Irish coast with all his crew. After enduring dying many days The sea has given him quiet. Many ways Lead men to death, and he a hard one trod, Bearing much misery, like a knight of God. Philip. Amen. Go on. 68 philip the king Messenger. Hugh de Mongada died, Shot in his burning ship by Calais side, Cheering his men to save her. Pimentel Sank in a galleon shambled like a hell Rather than yield, and in a whirl of flames Pedro Mendoza, Captain of St. James, Stood with Don Philip thrusting boarders back Till their Toledan armour was burnt black. And both their helms ran blood. And there they fell, Shot down to bleed to death. They per- ished well, Happy to die in battle for their King Before defeat had fallen on their friends ; Happier than most, for where the merrows sing Paredes and his brother met their ends. And Don Alarcon, cast alive ashore. PHILIP THE KING 69 Was killed and stripped and hanged upon a tree. And young Mendoza, whom the flagship bore, Died of starvation and of misery. But hundreds perished, King; why men- tion these? Battle and hunger, heart-break, and the seas Have overwhelmed the chivalry of Spain. Philip. Misfortune, after effort, brings no stain. Perhaps I underjudged the English fleet. How was it that the Spaniards met defeat? What evil fortune brought about our fall? Messenger. Their sailors and their cannon did it all. Philip. Yet when the fleet reached Calais all went well. 70 PHILIP THE KING Messenger. Our woes began there. Philip. Tell me what befell. Messenger. We were to ship the troops in Calais Road ; They lay encamped, prepared to go aboard. To windward still the English fleet abode — Still as in port when peace has been restored. The wind and sea were fair, We lay at anchor there; The stars burned in the air. The men were sleeping, When in the midnight dark Our watchman saw a spark Suddenly light a bark With long flames leaping. Then, as thej- stood amazed, Others and others blazed ; PHILIP THE KING 71 Then terror set them crazed, They ran down screaming : ''Fire-ships are coming! Wake Cast loose, for Jesus' sake! Eight fire-ships come from Drake — Look at their gleaming!" Roused in the dark from bed, We saw the fire show red, And instant panic spread Through troops and sailors; They swarmed on deck unclad, They did what terror bade, King, they were like the mad Escaped from jailers. Some prayed for mercy, some Rang bells or beat the drum. As though despair had come At hell's contriving; 72 PHILIP THE KING Captains with terror pale Screamed through the dark their hail, "Cut cable, loose the sail, And set all driving!" Heading all ways at once, Grinding each other's guns, Our blundering galleons Athwart-hawse galleys, Timbers and plankings cleft. And half our tackling reft, Your grand Armada left The roads of Calais. Weary and overwrought We strove to make all taut ; But when the morning brought The dawn to light us, Drake, with the weather gage. Made signal to engage. PHILIP THE KING 73 And, like a pard in rage, Bore down to fight us. Nobly the English line Trampled the bubbled brine; We heard the gun-trucks whine To the taut laniard. Onwards we saw them forge, White billowing at the gorge. "On, on!" they cried, "St. George! Down with the Spaniard!" From their van squadron broke A withering battle-stroke, Tearing our planked oak By straiks asunder. Blasting the wood like rot With such a hail of shot, So constant and so hot It beat us under. 74 PHILIP THE KINO The English would not close; They fought us as they chose, Dealing us deadly blows For seven hours. Lords of our chiefest rank The bitter billow drank, For there the English sank Three ships of ours. Then the wind forced us northward from the fight; We could not ship the army nor return ; We held the sea in trouble through the night. Watching the English signals blink and bum. The English in a dim cloud kept astern; All night they signalled, while our shattered ships Huddled like beasts beneath the drovers' whips. 4: 4c 4b 4: 4: PHILIP THE KING 75 At dawn the same wind held; we could not strive. The Enghsh drove us north as herdsmen drive. ***** Under our tattered flags, With rigging cut to rags, Our ships like stricken stags Were heaped and hounded. Caught by the unknown tide, With neither chart nor guide. We fouled the Holland side. Where four more grounded. Our water-casks were burst. The horses died of thirst. The wounded raved and curst, Uncared, untended. All night we heard the crying Of lonely shipmates dying; 76 PHILIP THE KING We had to leave them lying. So the fight ended. Philip. God gives His victory as He wills. But this Was not complete destruction. What thing worse Came to destroy you? Messenger. An avenging curse, Due for old sins, destroyed us. Philip. Tell the tale. Messenger. King, when morning dawned it blew a gale. But still the English followed, and we fled Till breakers made the dirty waters pale. We saw the Zealand sandbanks right ahead. Blind in a whirling spray that gave us dread ; PHILIP THE KING 77 For we were blown there, and the water shoaled. The crying of the leadsmen at the lead, Calling the soundings, were our death- bells tolled. We drifted down to death upon the sands — The EngUsh drew away to watch us drown ; We saw the bitter breakers with grey hands Tear the dead body of the sandbank brown. We could do nothing, so we drifted down Singing the psalms for death — we who had been Lords of the sea and knights of great re- nown, Doomed to be strangled by a death un- clean. Philip. So there the ships were wrecked? 78 PHILIP THE KING Messenger. Time had not struck. King, we learned how blessed mercy saves : Even as our forefoot grounded on the muck, Tripping us up to drown us in the waves, A sudden windshift snatched us from our graves And drove us north ; and now another woe, Tempest unending, beat our ships to staves — A never-dying gale with frost and snow. Now our hearts failed, for food and water failed ; The men fell sick by troops, the wounded died. They washed about the wet decks as we sailed PHILIP THE KING 79 For want of strength to lift them overside. Desolate seas we sailed, so grim, so wide, That ship by ship our comrades disap- peared. With neither sun nor star to be a guide, Like spirits of the wretched dead we steered. Till, having beaten through the Pentland Pass, We saw the Irish surf, with mists of spray Blowing far inland, blasting trees and grass. And gave God thanks, for we espied a bay Safe, with bright water running down the clay — A running brook where we could drink and drink. But drawing near, our ships were cast away. Bilged on the rocks; we saw our comrades sink . . . 80 PHILIP THE KING Or worse : for those the breakers cast ashore The Irish killed and stripped; their bodies white Lay naked to the wolves — yea, sixty score — All down the windy beach, a piteous sight. The savage Irish watched by bonfire fight Lest more should come ashore; we heard them there Screaming the bloody news of their delight. Then we abandoned hope and new despair. And now the fleet is sunken in the sea. And all the seamen, all the might of Spain, Are dead, O King, and out of misery. Never to drag at frozen ropes again — Never to know defeat, nor feel the pain Of watching dear companions sink and die. Death's everlasting armistice to the brain Gives their poor griefs quietus ; let them lie. PHILIP THE KING 81 I, like a ghost returning from the grave, Come from a stricken ship to tell the news Of Spanish honour which we could not save, Nor win again, nor even die to lose ; And since God's hidden wisdom loves to bruise Those whom He loves, we, trembling in despair. Will watch our griefs to see God's finger there, And make His will our solace and excuse. Defeat is bitter and the truth is hard — Spain is defeated, England has prevailed; This is the banner which I could not guard. And this the consecrated sword which failed. Do with your dying Captain as you will. {He lays down sword and banner.) 82 PHILIP THE KING Philip. I, from my heart, thank God, from whose great hand I am so helped with power, I can still Set out another fleet against that land. Nor do I think it ill If all the running water takes its course TVliile there are unspent fountains at the source. He sendeth out His word and melteth them. Take back your standard, Captain. As you go, Bid the bells toll and let the clergy- come. Then in the city by the strike of diiim Proclaim a general fast. In bitter days The soul finds God. God us. [Exit Captain. PHILIP THE KING 83 Philip {alone). De Leyva, friend, Whom I shall never see, never again. This misery that I feel is over Spain. O God, beloved God, in pity send That blessed rose among the thorns — an end : Give a bruised spirit peace. {He kneels. A muffled march of the drums.) Curtain. OTHER POEMS THE ''WANDERER" All day they loitered by the resting ships, TeUing their beauties over, taking stock; At night the verdict left my messmates' lips, ''The Wanderer is the finest ship in dock." I had not seen her, but a friend, since drowned. Drew her, with painted ports, low, lovely, lean, Saying, "The Wanderer, clipper, outward bound, The loveliest ship my eyes have ever seen — "Perhaps to-morrow you will see her sail. She sails at sunrise" : but the morrow showed 87 88 THE ''WANDERER'* No Wanderer setting forth for me to hail; Far down the stream men pointed where she rode, Rode the great trackway to the sea, dim, dim, Already gone before the stars were gone. I saw her at the sea-line's smoky rim Grow swiftly vaguer as they towed her on. Soon even her masts were hidden in the haze Beyond the city; she was on her course To trample billows for a hundred days ; That afternoon the norther gathered force. Blowing a small snow from a point of east. "Oh, fair for her," we said, "to take her south." And in our spirits, as the wind increased. We saw her there, beyond the river mouth. THE ''WANDERER" 89 Setting her side-lights in the wildering dark, To glint upon mad water, while the gale Roared like a battle, snapping like a shark, And drunken seamen struggled with the sail. While with sick hearts her mates put out of mipd Their little children left astern, ashore, And the gale's gathering made the darkness blind, Water and air one intermingled roar. Then we forgot her, for the fiddlers played, Dancing and singing held our merry crew ; The old ship moaned a little as she swayed. It blew all night, oh, bitter hard it blew ! So that at midnight I was called on deck To keep an anchor-watch : I heard the sea 90 THE "WANDERER" Roar past in white procession filled with wreck ; Intense bright frosty stars burned over me, And the Greek brig beside us dipped and dipped, White to the muzzle like a half-tide rock. Drowned to the mainmast with the seas she shipped ; Her cable-swivels clanged at every shock. And like a never-dying force, the wind Roared tijl we shouted with it, roared until Its vast vitality of wrath was thinned, Had beat its fury breathless and was still. By dawn the gale had dwindled into flaw, A glorious morning followed : with my friend I climbed the fo'c's'le-head to see; we saw The waters hurrying shorewards without end. THE "WANDERER" 91 Haze blotted out the river's lowest reach; Out of the gloom the steamers, passing by, Called with their sirens, hooting their sea- speech ; Out of the dimness others made reply. And as we watched, there came a rush of feet Charging the fo'c's'le till the hatchway shook. Men all about us thrust their way, or beat, Crying, ^^Th.Q Wanderer! Down the river! Look!" I looked with them towards the dimness; there Gleamed like a spirit striding out of night, A full-rigged ship unutterably fair, Her masts like trees in winter, frosty- bright. 92 THE ''WANDERER" Foam trembled at her bows like wisps of wool; She trembled as she towed. I had not dreamed That work of man could be so beautiful, In its own presence and in what it seemed. "So, she is putting back again," I said. ''How white with frost her yards are on the fore." One of the men about me answer made, "That is not frost, but all her sails are tore, "Torn into tatters, youngster, in the gale; Her best foul-weather suit gone." It was true, Her masts were white with rags of tattered sail Many as gannets when the fish are due. THE ''WANDERER" 93 Beauty in desolation was her pride, Her crowned array a glory that had been ; She faltered tow'rds us like a swan that died, But although ruined she was still a queen. ''Put back with all her sails gone," went the word; Then, from her signals flying, rumour ran, ''The sea that stove her boats in killed her third ; She has been gutted and has lost a man." So, as though stepping to a funeral march, She passed defeated homewards whence she came. Ragged with tattered canvas white as starch, A wild bird that misfortune had made tame. She was refitted soon : another took The dead man's office ; then the singers hove 94 THE "WANDERER" Her capstan till the snapping hawsers shook ; Out, with a bubble at her bows, she drove. Again they towed her seawards, and again We, watching, praised her beauty, praised her trim, Saw her fair house-flag flutter at the main, And slowly saunter seawards, dwindling dim; And wished her well, and wondered, as she died, How, when her canvas had been sheeted home. Her quivering length would sweep into her stride. Making the greenness milky with her foam. But when we rose next morning, we discerned Her beauty once again a shattered thing; THE y WANDERER" 95 Towing to dock the Wanderer returned, A wounded sea-bird with a broken wing. A spar was gone, her rigging's disarray Told of a worse disaster than the last ; Like draggled hair dishevelled hung the stay. Drooping and beating on the broken mast. Half-mast upon her flagstaff hung her flag ; Word went among us how the broken spar Had gored her captain like an angry stag, And killed her mate a half-day from the bar. She passed to dock upon the top of flood. An old man near me shook his head and swore : "Like a bad woman, she has tasted blood — There'll be no trusting in her any more." 96 THB t'WAXDERER'' Wo thought it truth, and when wo saw hor there L>-ing m dock, beyond, across the stream, ^^'o would forget that we had oallevi her fair. Wo thought her murvioress and the pa^st a dream. And when she sailed ag:un. we watched in awe. Wondering what bloody aot her beauty planner!, Wliat evil lurkeii bel\ind the thing we saw, Wliat strength wa.s there that thus annulled man's hand, How next its triimiph would compel niiin's will Into compliance with external Fate, Row next the powers would use her to work ill On suffering men : we had not long to wait. THE "WAXDERER" 97 For soon the outcry of derision rose, "Here comes the Wanderer !" the expected cry. Guessing the cause, oiur mockings joined with those Yelled from the shipping as they towed her by. She passed us close, her seamen paid no heed To what was called : they stood, a sullen group, Smoking and spitting, careless of her need, Mocking the orders given from the poop. Her mates and hoys were working her ; we stared. TM\at was the reason of this strange return. This third annulUng of the thing prepared? No outward evil could our eyes discern. PS THE VWASD£R£R" Oiily like one who ha\-ing formed a plan Bewnd the pitch of common minds, she sailed. Mocked and deserted by the common iDan> Made half di\-ine to me for having failed. We learnovi the reason soon ; below the town A staj' had panevi like a snapping i>?evi. "Warning." the men thought, "not to take her down." They tod: the amen, they would not pivx^ed. Days passed b^ore anotlks ci^w would sign. Tbe WiMndtrer lay in dock alone, unmanned. Fearevi as a thing possessed by ix^wei^ malign. Bouiid Viiidor our^"^ r.o: :o leave the laiivi. But undor passing Time fear passes too; Tbat tenor pa^jsevi, the sailors* hearts grew bold. TUB -wwynKKKK" iH) We lo:U"uod in titno that slto had found :\ orow And was bound out and southw:vrds as of old. And in contempt wo thought. " A Httlo while Will bring hex back agjiiii, liiduuvntleii, spoiled. It is horsoll : she eannot change her style: She has the habit now of being foiU\i." So when a ship apjx\iroii among the haze, We thought, "The irtifjJtTtT back again"; but no. No irij'MVr- sliowed for many, many din's. Her pivssing lights made other waters glow. But we would often think and talk of her. Tell newer hands her ston*. wondering, then, Upon what ocean slie was U'(Uj(f«T