The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume I Part 68

_Maria._ O my dear Mother! this strange man has left me Troubled with wilder fancies, than the moon Breeds in the love-sick maid who gazes at it, Till lost in inward vision, with wet eye 15 She gazes idly!--But that entrance, Mother!

_Foster-Mother._ Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!

_Maria._ No one.

_Foster-Mother._ My husband's father told it me, Poor old Leoni!--Angels rest his soul!

He was a woodman, and could fell and saw 20 With l.u.s.ty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old Chapel?

Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool 25 As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And rear'd him at the then Lord Velez' cost.

And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachable-- And never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, 30 But knew the names of birds, and mock'd their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 'twas his only play To get the seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water, on the stumps of trees. 35 A Friar, who gather'd simples in the wood, A grey-haired man--he lov'd this little boy, The boy lov'd him--and, when the Friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen: and from that time, Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle. 40 So he became a very learned youth.

But Oh! poor wretch!--he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turn'd--and ere his twentieth year, He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he prayed, he never lov'd to pray 45 With holy men, nor in a holy place-- But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Velez ne'er was wearied with him.

And once, as by the north side of the Chapel They stood together, chain'd in deep discourse, 50 The earth heav'd under them with such a groan, That the wall totter'd, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frighten'd; A fever seiz'd him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk 55 Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seiz'd And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobb'd like a child--it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working in the cellar, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, 60 Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wild savannah, To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty.

He always doted on the youth, and now 65 His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I describ'd: And the young man escap'd.

_Maria._ 'Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoil'd with unwiped tears.-- 70 And what became of him?

_Foster-Mother._ He went on s.h.i.+pboard With those bold voyagers, who made discovery Of golden lands. Leoni's younger brother Went likewise, and when he return'd to Spain, He told Leoni, that the poor mad youth, 75 Soon after they arriv'd in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seiz'd a boat, And all alone, set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis suppos'd, 80 He liv'd and died among the savage men.

1797.

FOOTNOTES:

[182:1] First published in the first edition of the _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798, and reprinted in the editions of 1800, 1803, and 1805. The 'dramatic fragment' was excluded from the acting version of _Remorse_, but was printed in an Appendix, p. 75, to the Second Edition of the Play, 1813. It is included in the body of the work in _Sibylline Leaves_, 1817, and again in 1852, and in the Appendix to _Remorse_ in the editions of 1828, 1829, and 1834. It is omitted from 1844. 'The "Foster-Mother's Tale," (From Mr. C.'s own handwriting)' was published in Cottle's _Early Recollections_, i. 235.

'The following scene as unfit for the stage was taken from the Tragedy in 1797, and published in the _Lyrical Ballads_. But this work having been long out of print, and it having been determined, that this with my other poems in that collection (the _Nightingale_, _Love_, and the _Ancient Mariner_) should be omitted in any future edition, I have been advised to reprint it as a Note to the Second Scene of Act the Fourth, p. 55.' App. to _Remorse_, Ed. 2, 1813. [This note is reprinted in 1828 and 1829, but in 1834 only the first sentence is prefixed to the scene.]

LINENOTES:

t.i.tle] Foster-Mother's Tale. (Scene--Spain) Cottle, 1837: The, &c. A Narration in Dramatic Blank Verse L. B. 1800. In Remorse, App., 1813 and in 1828, 1829, 1834, the _dramatis personae_ are respectively Teresa and Selma. The fragment opens thus:--_Enter Teresa and Selma._

_Ter._ 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.

In Cottle's version, the scene begins at line 4.

[1] man] Moor _Osorio_, MS. I.

[12-16] O my dear Mother . . . She gazes idly! om. 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[12] me] us Cottle, 1837.

[13] the] yon _Osorio_, MS. I.

[16] In Lyrical Ballads, 1800, the scene begins with the words: 'But that entrance'. But that entrance, Selma? 1813.

[19] Leoni] Sesina 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[27] Velez'] Valdez' 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834: Valez' S. L. 1817.

[34] To gather seeds 1813, S. L. 1817, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[36] gather'd] oft culled S. L. 1817.

[41] So he became a rare and learned youth 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[41-2]

So he became a very learned man.

But O poor youth

Cottle, 1837.

[48] Velez] Valdez 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834: Valez S. L. 1817.

[54] made a confession _Osorio_. A fever seiz'd the youth and he made confession Cottle, 1837.

[57] hole] cell L. B. 1800: den 1813. [And fetter'd in that den. MS. S.

T. C.].

[59] in the cellar] near this dungeon 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[62] wild] wide 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

[65] He always] Leoni L. B. 1800.

[68-9] om. L. B. 1800.

[73] Leoni's] Sesina's 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834. younger] youngest S. L.

1817.

[75] Leoni] Sesina 1813, 1828, 1829, 1834.

THE DUNGEON[185:1]

[From _Osorio_, Act V; and _Remorse_, Act V, Scene i. The t.i.tle and text are here printed from _Lyrical Ballads_, 1798.]

And this place our forefathers made for man!

This is the process of our love and wisdom, To each poor brother who offends against us-- Most innocent, perhaps--and what if guilty?

Is this the only cure? Merciful G.o.d! 5 Each pore and natural outlet shrivell'd up By Ignorance and parching Poverty, His energies roll back upon his heart, And stagnate and corrupt; till chang'd to poison, They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot; 10 Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks-- And this is their best cure! uncomforted And friendless solitude, groaning and tears, And savage faces, at the clanking hour, Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon, 15 By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies Circled with evil, till his very soul Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd By sights of ever more deformity!

With other ministrations thou, O Nature! 20 Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child: Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters, Till he relent, and can no more endure 25 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing, Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, His angry spirit heal'd and harmoniz'd By the benignant touch of Love and Beauty. 30

1797.