764. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, 9 March 1803*

The Curse of Kehama

______

Book 2.

______

Against a Cocoa trunk Laderlad lay reclin’d, And Kalyal hid her face Upon her fathers knees. The boatman as he saild along With envious eye beheld them where they lay. For every herb & every tree Was fresh & fragrant with the gleamy dew, Sweet sung the birds above. And the cool morning gale, that now Rolld ruffling up the stream, Swept oer the moistened sand & raisd no shower He did not marvel that they lingered there Amid their tale of love.

But now the Sun hath climbd the heights of heavn The little songsters of the sky Sit silent in the sultry hour. They pant & palpitate with pain Their bills are open languidly To catch the passing air, They hear it not, they feel it not, It murmurs not, it moves not. The boatman as he saild along Admires what men so mad to linger there, For yonder Cocoas shade behind them falls A single speck upon the burning sand.

There all the morning hours Laderlad lay Silent & motionless. There motionless upon her fathers knees The silent maid reclind. The man was still, pondering in steady thought As tho it were anothers curse His own mysterious doom, As tho it were last-nights tale Of wonderment by some old storyer sung, Sitting at moonlight by the cottage door. All seem’d a dream at length. A monstrous dream of things that could not be. That throb of forehead .. was it not full noon? And he was lying there All bare to the broad sun! What if he felt no wind? Why all the winds were hushd. There came no rustling from yon field of rice, The shadow of the Cocoas lightest plume Was steady on the sand.

He rose, he ran impatient to the brink. He stopt to break the visionary spell. He plunged his head amid the stream. Kalyal with fearful eye observed his chance. She saw the start & shudder. She heard the half-uttered groan. For the Water knew Kehamas curse The Water shrunk before him. His dry hand moved unmoistened thro wave. As easily might that dry hand Have clenchd the winds of heaven! ‘He is almighty then!’ The desperate wretch exclaimd, ‘Air knows him, Water knows him. Sleep & Death ‘Will do his dreadful will, ‘And Veeshnoo has no power to save ‘Nor Seeva to destroy!’

‘Oh wrong not them!’ quoth Kalyal. art not thou ‘A man opprest? & lighter crimes than his Have drawn the Incarnate down. ‘Already in their mercy have the Gods ‘Beheld us,’ – & she claspd her arms Round Mariatales image .. ‘it was She, ‘Twas my own Goddess saved me! ‘Here – here – my father,’ she exclaim’d ‘Raise the preserving Power. ‘The mighty of the earth despise her rites. ‘She loves the poor who serve her. lift her here ‘For jealously would she resent ‘Neglect & thanklessness.

So saying on here knees the Maid Began the pious toil. Soon their joint hands have hollowed the due depth They raise the Image up And heap the sand around its rooted base. ‘My Goddess!’ then quoth Kalyal, ‘pardon thou ‘The unwilling wrong that I no more ‘Can do, thy daily sacrifice ‘From childhood up so willingly performd. ‘O Mariatale! from that happy home ‘The Almighty Man hath forced us! –’ And her involuntary eye, Went homeward with the thought. That way aloft, all bright in the blue air The summits of the Golden Towers were seen. ‘Father away!’ she cried – ‘away ‘Why linger we so near? ‘For not to him hath Nature given ‘The thousand eyes of Deity ‘Always & every where with open sight ‘To watch our steps! – away –’ She took Laderlads hand, & like a child He followed where she led.

So till evening hand in hand The wanderers went their way Then overwearied with their wretched toil By a wood-side they paused. And there beneath oerarching boughs On Kalyals lap Laderlad laid his head And never word spake he. Nor heaved he one complaining sigh, Nor groand he with his misery. But silently for her dear sake He lay in patient pain. The night comes on – dark night – There is no moon above And yonder clouds that float along the heaven Bedim the feeble stars. She could not see her fathers cheek How dark with fever fire, She could not see his eye How red with burning agony. And he lies on still & quietly – So quietly – so still. Is then the throbbing brain at rest. And hath the pang abated?

Now forward from the tree She bends her head & leans And listens to his breath. Laderlads breath was short & quick, Yet regular it came In equal pantings, like a sick mans sleep. Oh! if he sleeps! – her lips unclose All eager listening to the sound, The equal sound so like repose: And he lies still so quietly Nor sigh – nor groan, nor motion. Then is there in Kehama’s heart One human feeling yet? Hath the Almighty Man relaxed his wrath? Or Mariatales power divine Assuaged the agony?

That was a hope that filled her gushing eyes, And made her heart in silent thank & prayer Yearn to the Goddess. then against the tree Her weary head she laid, Still listening fearfully her fathers breath That still came regular like sleep. She listened long, till the long listening lulld Exhausted Nature. Nature to her toil Yielding at length obeyed the imperious want, And Kalyal sunk to rest.

Alas He did not sleep! The curse was burning in his brain Sleep knew Kehamas curse. The dews of night fell fast, They never bathed Laderlads brow, They fell not upon him, They knew Kehamas curse. The night-breeze is abroad. Aloft it moves among the stirring leaves. He only hears the wind, It never fannd his cheek It knew Kehamas curse.

He lay & listened if his daughter slept, For wherefore should that dear one see & share His hopeless misery? why should he endure Reflected wretchedness? Better alone to suffer. – from her lap Gently he lifts his head – She moves not – gently & with fearful feet Laderlad rises, – then she starts – she feels Her father gone – she calls – No voice replied. she heard His footstep fast in flight.¹

x x x x x x x

The rest of the book this week. You would have had this long ago but for causes with which you are already acquainted. I have been harrassed with Reviewing.² & last week was obliged to go some way from home to pay a visit which had been somewhat discourteously from time to time delayed. I have still the remainder of this week to drudge – & then shall have cleared off this lumber. three weeks more work at Amadis³ after that, & then – thank God – a little breathing time – for I am worried.

I forgot to thank Nicol⁴ for offering to lend me the prints – but the risque is too great. & moreover I meditate a journey to London for a few days in April & then can see them. At Bownham⁵ last week I fell in with Craufords Sketches of the Hindoos⁶ & gutted them. so you need not hunt for me there. Holwells book⁷ would be new ground to beat. with my first leisure I shall look well over your Ovid.⁸ indeed I have had no time – I have worked like a post horse.

It vexes me to think of Brixton –

God bless you Grosvenor! RS.
March 9. 1803.