The Complete Works: Poetry, Plays, Letters and Extensive Biographies. John Keats

      So said, one minute’s while his eyes remaind’

      Half lidded, piteous, languid, innocent;

      But, in a wink, their splendour they regain’d,

      Sparkling revenge with amorous fury blent.

      Love thwarted in bad temper oft has vent:

      He rose, he stampt his foot, he rang the bell,

      And order’d some death-warrants to be sent

      For signature: somewhere the tempest fell,

      As many a poor fellow does not live to tell.

      “At the same time, Eban,” (this was his page,

      A fay of colour, slave from top to toe,

      Sent as a present, while yet under age,

      From the Viceroy of Zanguebar, wise, slow,

      His speech, his only words were “yes” and “no,”

      But swift of look, and foot, and wing was he,)

      “At the same time, Eban, this instant go

      To Hum the soothsayer, whose name I see

      Among the fresh arrivals in our empery.

      “Bring Hum to me! But stay here, take my ring,

      The pledge of favour, that he not suspect

      Any foul play, or awkward murdering,

      Tho’ I have bowstrung many of his sect;

      Throw in a hint, that if he should neglect

      One hour, the next shall see him in my grasp,

      And the next after that shall see him neck’d,

      Or swallow’d by my hunger-starved asp,

      And mention (’tis as well) the torture of the wasp.”

      These orders given, the Prince, in half a pet,

      Let o’er the silk his propping elbow slide,

      Caught up his little legs, and, in a fret,

      Fell on the sofa on his royal side.

      The slave retreated backwards, humble-ey’d,

      And with a slave-like silence clos’d the door,

      And to old Hun thro’ street and alley hied;

      He “knew the city,” as we say, of yore,

      And for short cuts and turns, was nobody knew more.

      It was the time when wholesale dealers close

      Their shutters with a moody sense of wealth,

      But retail dealers, diligent, let loose

      The gas (objected to on score of health),

      Convey’d in little solder’d pipes by stealth,

      And make it flare in many a brilliant form,

      That all the powers of darkness it repell’th,

      Which to the oil-trade doth great scaith and harm,

      And superseded quite the use of the glow-worm.

      Eban, untempted by the pastry-cooks,

      (Of pastry he got store within the palace,)

      With hasty steps, wrapp’d cloak, and solemn looks,

      Incognito upon his errand sallies,

      His smelling-bottle ready for the allies;

      He pass’d the Hurdy-gurdies with disdain,

      Vowing he’d have them sent on board the gallies;

      Just as he made his vow; it ‘gan to rain,

      Therefore he call’d a coach, and bade it drive amain.

      “I’ll pull the string,” said he, and further said,

      “Polluted Jarvey! Ah, thou filthy hack!

      Whose springs of life are all dry’d up and dead,

      Whose linsey-woolsey lining hangs all slack,

      Whose rug is straw, whose wholeness is a crack;

      And evermore thy steps go clatter-clitter;

      Whose glass once up can never be got back,

      Who prov’st, with jolting arguments and bitter,

      That ’tis of modern use to travel in a litter.

      “Thou inconvenience! thou hungry crop

      For all corn! thou snail-creeper to and fro,

      Who while thou goest ever seem’st to stop,

      And fiddle-faddle standest while you go;

      I’ the morning, freighted with a weight of woe,

      Unto some lazar-house thou journeyest,

      And in the evening tak’st a double row

      Of dowdies, for some dance or party drest,

      Besides the goods meanwhile thou movest east and west.

      “By thy ungallant bearing and sad mien,

      An inch appears the utmost thou couldst budge;

      Yet at the slightest nod, or hint, or sign,

      Round to the curb-stone patient dost thou trudge,

      School’d in a beckon, learned in a nudge,

      A dull-ey’d Argus watching for a fare;

      Quiet and plodding, thou dost bear no grudge

      To whisking Tilburies, or Phaetons rare,

      Curricles, or Mail-coaches, swift beyond compare.”

      Philosophizing thus, he pull’d the check,

      And bade the Coachman wheel to such a street,

      Who, turning much his body, more his neck,

      Louted full low, and hoarsely did him greet:

      “Certes, Monsieur were best take to his feet,

      Seeing his servant can no further drive

      For press of coaches, that tonight here meet,

      Many as bees about a straw-capp’d hive,

      When first for April honey into faint flowers they dive.”

      Eban then paid his fare, and tiptoe went

      To Hum’s hotel; and, as he on did pass

      With head inclin’d, each dusky lineament

      Show’d in the pearl-pav’d street, as in a glass;

      His purple vest, that ever peeping was

      Rich from the fluttering crimson of his cloak,

      His silvery trowsers, and his silken sash

      Tied in a burnish’d knot, their semblance took

      Upon the mirror’d walls, wherever he might look.

      He smil’d at self, and, smiling, show’d his teeth,

      And seeing his white teeth, he smil’d the more;

      Lifted

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