738. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, [c. 30 November 1802]*

7.¹

With quick & angry step Toward the pile he strode, And then for silence raised his arm, & cried Bring forth the Murderer! Calmly at the Rajahs voice, Like a man whom fear had stunn’d, Obedient to the call Laderlad came. But Kalyal started at the sound & shriekd All wild with terror, & turnd back, And rolled her eyes around As if she lookd for aid where aid was none. Near her on the rivers brink Mariatales image stood, Poor & rude & roughly hewn, The Goddess of the poor. To that she sprung to that she clung On her own Goddess with close-clasping arms For life the Maiden hung. They seized the Maid, with eager grasp They bruised her tender limbs, – She nothing yielding with a frenzy-hold Clings to that only hope, She screams not now, she breathes not now She forms no silent prayer All feelings & all powers of life In the one effort centered, wrathful they Drag her with tug & strain, … (Ah how shall she a gentle Maid) (Resist their ruffian force?)

(A couplet added in transcription even now, & of no bonity, something of less trivial trickishness must be substituted – a grouping of the fellows – a bone & muscle exhibition to pause upon)

Didst thou O Mariatale see, In pity didst thou see the suffering Maid? Or was thine anger kindled that rude hands Assailed thy holy image? – for it shakes! The holy Image shakes! Fools! with more violent & earnest strength Impious, they strive & strain, Deeming they felt the Maid Relax her stubborn hold. The rooted Image yields

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The loose bank crumbles, & down the steep, Precipitate, the Guards The Maid, the Image, dash amid the stream.

She hath escaped my power, Kehama cried She hath escaped, but thou art here The worser criminal! And on Laderlad full he fix’d The terrors of his frown. The strong reflection of the flame Lit his dark lineaments, Lit the protruded brow, the gathered front The steady eye of wrath. But while the dreadful silence yet endured Laderlad summoned up his soul, Ere yet the voice of destiny That trembled on the Rajahs lips was loosed, Eager he interposed As if despair had wakened him to hope. Mercy! o mercy! – only in defence – Only to save my child I smote the Prince – Mine was an instinct act – the crime was his – King of the World be merciful! Crush me – but torture not.

The Man Almighty deigned him no reply, Still he was silent, in no human mood Of mercy, in no hesitating doubt Of stirring justice. at the length his brow Relaxd, his lips unclosed, And uttered from his heart With the whole feeling of his soul enforced Burst the collected vengeance.

“Earth! thy food for ever deny him! Water know the murderer & fly him! Let him never feel the winds that blow. The comfort of sleep let him never know. Nor let Death deliver him from his woe While Kehama reigns below. While Kehama holds his reign

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Let thy burning curse remain In every limb & in every vein, Let it burn in his heart & burn in his brain.

There where the Curse had stricken him There stood the miserable man. There stood Laderlad with loose hanging arms And eyes of idiot wandering. Was it a dream? alas! He heard the river flow He heard the crumbling of the pile He heard the wind that showered The thin white ashes round: There motionless he stood As if he hoped it were a dream And feard to move lest he should know The natural misery, And still at times he met Kehamas eye, Kehamas eye that fastened on him still.

And now the rites proceed The Rajah turnd him to the pile, Anew the murmur of the crowd arose. Laderlad starts. he looks around – What seest thou – wretched man? Ministrant Bramins, the long soldier train, The vacant palanquins. The dimly-fading fire! But where is now thy child – Thy best beloved Kalyal – where is she The solace & the joy Of years of widowhood? Hath she too perished? art thou left alone So utterly alone to bear thy curse? He staggers from the place – Whereer he moves the throng recede. They shun him as a man On whom was pestilence

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He wanders on, he feels A comfort in the change of circumstance – He speeds with quickened step along the shore

By this the day had dawnd, And now the emerging sun Tipt with his ray aslant The river wrinkles reddening in his light Lo! what is yonder in the stream, Down the slow current floating slow, In distance indistinct? The eye of the childless is there – Belike it is a Tree by sudden storms Uptorn, or from the bank Swept by the silent flood: But bough, nor twig, nor leaf Appears above the stream. And what is there that swells beside the trunk? – Yea – it is Kalyal with a senseless grasp Yet clinging to the Image, yet upborne By that preserving power.

Headlong in hope & joy Laderlad dashd in the waters. The Water knew Kehamas curse The Water shrunk before him. Blind to the miracle He treads the river depths And now he clasps his child.

A shore of sand beyond Rose gently from the stream. Thither Laderlad bore her clasping still The saviour Goddess; there upon the sand He laid the senseless maid And chafed her chilly breast. Soon did his touch perceive, Perceive or fancy there The first faint motion of returning life. He chafes her feet, he bares them to the sun

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And now again upon her breast Lays his hot hand & feels the stronger throb … And her lips tremble now – The breath comes palpably; Her quavering lids unclose Feebly & feebly fall.

So in her fathers arms Languid & motionless Even as the dead she lay, And painfully & slowly writhed at fits, At fits to short convulsive starts was stung. Till when the struggle & strong agony Had left her, quietly she lay. Her eyes now resting on Laderlads face. Relapsing now, & now again unclosed. The look she fixed upon her fathers face Had neither thought nor feeling, senselessly Composed, as one who slept with open lids.

Long he leant over her In silence & in fear. Kalyal! at length he cried, Kalyal! it was a voice as low As by a childs sick bed A mother ventures timidly, Doubtful if still he sleeps. My father! cried the Maid Awakening them to life, Thou here my father? & the past recurred That dimly like a dream till now Confused her troubled brain. But hope revived her. hath he spared us then? Half rising she exclaimed. Hath the Almighty Man been merciful That yet thou livest? – then Laderlad groand – Oh! he hath laid a Curse upon my life, Hath sent a fire into my heart & brain A burning & consuming fire! Air must not cool me, Water may not touch me,

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Sleep never visit me, nor Death Release me from the power.

This is a dream! quoth she, but with a fear That in her larger eye was visible – A dream! – she rose & laid her hand Upon her fathers brow. He could not bear the pressure there, – he shrunk. He warded off her arm, As it had been an enemys blow, he smote His daughters arm away. Her eye glanced down; she caught His garment, she exclaimd, O Misery! it is truth! Didst thou not bear me from the river depths? – His garment is not wet!

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Explicit Liber primus²

About enough of the second book is written for another letter. that shall speedily follow – & then perhaps my Brain will be parturient.

Vale RS.

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