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1 Karshish, the picker-up of learning's crumbs, 2 The not-incurious in God's handiwork 3 (This man's-flesh he hath admirably made, 4 Blown like a bubble, kneaded like a paste, 5 To coop up and keep down on earth a space 6 That puff of vapour from his mouth, man's soul) 7 –To Abib, all-sagacious in our art, 8 Breeder in me of what poor skill I boast, 9 Like me inquisitive how pricks and cracks 10 Befall the flesh through too much stress and strain, 11 Whereby the wily vapour fain would slip 12 Back and rejoin its source before the term,– 13 And aptest in contrivance (under God) 14 To baffle it by deftly stopping such:– 15 The vagrant Scholar to his Sage at home 16 Sends greeting (health and knowledge, fame with peace) 17 Three samples of true snakestone–rarer still, 18 One of the other sort, the melon-shaped, 19 (But fitter, pounded fine, for charms than drugs) 20 And writeth now the twenty-second time. 21 My journeyings were brought to Jericho; 22 Thus I resume. Who studious in our art 23 Shall count a little labour unrepaid? 24 I have shed sweat enough, left flesh and bone 25 On many a flinty furlong of this land. 26 Also, the country-side is all on fire 27 With rumours of a marching hitherward: 28 Some say Vespasian cometh, some, his son. 29 A black lynx snarled and pricked a tufted ear; 30 Lust of my blood inflamed his yellow balls: 31 I cried and threw my staff and he was gone. 32 Twice have the robbers stripped and beaten me, 33 And once a town declared me for a spy; 34 But at the end, I reach Jerusalem, 35 Since this poor covert where I pass the night, 36 This Bethany, lies scarce the distance thence 37 A man with plague-sores at the third degree 38 Runs till he drops down dead. Thou laughest here! 39 'Sooth, it elates me, thus reposed and safe, 40 To void the stuffing of my travel-scrip 41 And share with thee whatever Jewry yields 42 A viscid choler is observable 43 In tertians, I was nearly bold to say; 44 And falling-sickness hath a happier cure 45 Than our school wots of: there's a spider here 46 Weaves no web, watches on the ledge of tombs, 47 Sprinkled with mottles on an ash-grey back; 48 Take five and drop them . . . but who knows his mind, 49 The Syrian runagate I trust this to? 50 His service payeth me a sublimate 51 Blown up his nose to help the ailing eye. 52 Best wait: I reach Jerusalem at morn, 53 There set in order my experiences, 54 Gather what most deserves, and give thee all– 55 Or I might add, Judea's gum-tragacanth 56 Scales off in purer flakes, shines clearer-grained, 57 Cracks 'twixt the pestle and the porphyry, 58 In fine exceeds our produce. Scalp-disease 59 Confounds me, crossing so with leprosy– 60 Thou hadst admired one sort I gained at Zoar– 61 But zeal outruns discretion. Here I end. 62 Yet stay: my Syrian blinketh gratefully, 63 Protesteth his devotion is my price– 64 Suppose I write what harms not, though he steal? 65 I half resolve to tell thee, yet I blush, 66 What set me off a-writing first of all. 67 An itch I had, a sting to write, a tang! 68 For, be it this town's barrenness–or else 69 The Man had something in the look of him– 70 His case has struck me far more than 'tis worth. 71 So, pardon if–(lest presently I lose 72 In the great press of novelty at hand 73 The care and pains this somehow stole from me) 74 I bid thee take the thing while fresh in mind, 75 Almost in sight–for, wilt thou have the truth? 76 The very man is gone from me but now, 77 Whose ailment is the subject of discourse. 78 Thus then, and let thy better wit help all! 79 'Tis but a case of mania–subinduced 80 By epilepsy, at the turning-point 81 Of trance prolonged unduly some three days: 82 When, by the exhibition of some drug 83 Or spell, exorcization, stroke of art 84 Unknown to me and which 'twere well to know, 85 The evil thing out-breaking all at once 86 Left the man whole and sound of body indeed,– 87 But, flinging (so to speak) life's gates too wide, 88 Making a clear house of it too suddenly, 89 The first conceit that entered might inscribe 90 Whatever it was minded on the wall 91 So plainly at that vantage, as it were, 92 (First come, first served) that nothing subsequent 93 Attaineth to erase those fancy-scrawls 94 The just-returned and new-established soul 95 Hath gotten now so thoroughly by heart 96 That henceforth she will read or these or none. 97 And first–the man's own firm conviction rests 98 That he was dead (in fact they buried him) 99 –That he was dead and then restored to life 100 By a Nazarene physician of his tribe: 101 –'Sayeth, the same bade "Rise," and he did rise. 102 "Such cases are diurnal," thou wilt cry. 103 Not so this figment!–not, that such a fume, 104 Instead of giving way to time and health, 105 Should eat itself into the life of life, 106 As saffron tingeth flesh, blood, bones and all! 107 For see, how he takes up the after-life. 108 The man–it is one Lazarus a Jew, 109 Sanguine, proportioned, fifty years of age, 110 The body's habit wholly laudable, 111 As much, indeed, beyond the common health 112 As he were made and put aside to show. 113 Think, could we penetrate by any drug 114 And bathe the wearied soul and worried flesh, 115 And bring it clear and fair, by three days' sleep! 116 Whence has the man the balm that brightens all? 117 This grown man eyes the world now like a child. 118 Some elders of his tribe, I should premise, 119 Led in their friend, obedient as a sheep, 120 To bear my inquisition. While they spoke, 121 Now sharply, now with sorrow,–told the case,– 122 He listened not except I spoke to him, 123 But folded his two hands and let them talk, 124 Watching the flies that buzzed: and yet no fool. 125 And that's a sample how his years must go. 126 Look, if a beggar, in fixed middle-life, 127 Should find a treasure,–can he use the same 128 With straitened habits and with tastes starved small, 129 And take at once to his impoverished brain 130 The sudden element that changes things, 131 That sets the undreamed-of rapture at his hand 132 And puts the cheap old joy in the scorned dust? 133 Is he not such an one as moves to mirth– 134 Warily parsimonious, when no need, 135 Wasteful as drunkenness at undue times? 136 All prudent counsel as to what befits 137 The golden mean, is lost on such an one 138 The man's fantastic will is the man's law. 139 So here–we call the treasure knowledge, say, 140 Increased beyond the fleshly faculty– 141 Heaven opened to a soul while yet on earth, 142 Earth forced on a soul's use while seeing heaven: 143 The man is witless of the size, the sum, 144 The value in proportion of all things, 145 Or whether it be little or be much. 146 Discourse to him of prodigious armaments 147 Assembled to besiege his city now, 148 And of the passing of a mule with gourds– 149 'Tis one! Then take it on the other side, 150 Speak of some trifling fact–he will gaze rapt 151 With stupor at its very littleness, 152 (Far as I see) as if in that indeed 153 He caught prodigious import, whole results; 154 And so will turn to us the bystanders 155 In ever the same stupor (note this point) 156 That we too see not with his opened eyes. 157 Wonder and doubt come wrongly into play, 158 Preposterously, at cross purposes. 159 Should his child sicken unto death,–why, look 160 For scarce abatement of his cheerfulness, 161 Or pretermission of the daily craft! 162 While a word, gesture, glance, from that same child 163 At play or in the school or laid asleep, 164 Will startle him to an agony of fear, 165 Exasperation, just as like. Demand 166 The reason why–" `tis but a word," object– 167 "A gesture"–he regards thee as our lord 168 Who lived there in the pyramid alone 169 Looked at us (dost thou mind?) when, being young, 170 We both would unadvisedly recite 171 Some charm's beginning, from that book of his, 172 Able to bid the sun throb wide and burst 173 All into stars, as suns grown old are wont. 174 Thou and the child have each a veil alike 175 Thrown o'er your heads, from under which ye both 176 Stretch your blind hands and trifle with a match 177 Over a mine of Greek fire, did ye know! 178 He holds on firmly to some thread of life– 179 (It is the life to lead perforcedly) 180 Which runs across some vast distracting orb 181 Of glory on either side that meagre thread, 182 Which, conscious of, he must not enter yet– 183 The spiritual life around the earthly life: 184 The law of that is known to him as this, 185 His heart and brain move there, his feet stay here. 186 So is the man perplext with impulses 187 Sudden to start off crosswise, not straight on, 188 Proclaiming what is right and wrong across, 189 And not along, this black thread through the blaze– 190 "It should be" baulked by "here it cannot be." 191 And oft the man's soul springs into his face 192 As if he saw again and heard again 193 His sage that bade him "Rise" and he did rise. 194 Something, a word, a tick of the blood within 195 Admonishes: then back he sinks at once 196 To ashes, who was very fire before, 197 In sedulous recurrence to his trade 198 Whereby he earneth him the daily bread; 199 And studiously the humbler for that pride, 200 Professedly the faultier that he knows 201 God's secret, while he holds the thread of life. 202 Indeed the especial marking of the man 203 Is prone submission to the heavenly will– 204 Seeing it, what it is, and why it is. 205 'Sayeth, he will wait patient to the last 206 For that same death which must restore his being 207 To equilibrium, body loosening soul 208 Divorced even now by premature full growth: 209 He will live, nay, it pleaseth him to live 210 So long as God please, and just how God please. 211 He even seeketh not to please God more 212 (Which meaneth, otherwise) than as God please. 213 Hence, I perceive not he affects to preach 214 The doctrine of his sect whate'er it be, 215 Make proselytes as madmen thirst to do: 216 How can he give his neighbour the real ground, 217 His own conviction? Ardent as he is– 218 Call his great truth a lie, why, still the old 219 "Be it as God please" reassureth him. 220 I probed the sore as thy disciple should: 221 "How, beast," said I, "this stolid carelessness 222 Sufficeth thee, when Rome is on her march 223 To stamp out like a little spark thy town, 224 Thy tribe, thy crazy tale and thee at once?" 225 He merely looked with his large eyes on me. 226 The man is apathetic, you deduce? 227 Contrariwise, he loves both old and young, 228 Able and weak, affects the very brutes 229 And birds–how say I? flowers of the field– 230 As a wise workman recognizes tools 231 In a master's workshop, loving what they make. 232 Thus is the man as harmless as a lamb: 233 Only impatient, let him do his best, 234 At ignorance and carelessness and sin– 235 An indignation which is promptly curbed: 236 As when in certain travels I have feigned 237 To be an ignoramus in our art 238 According to some preconceived design, 239 And happed to hear the land's practitioners, 240 Steeped in conceit sublimed by ignorance, 241 Prattle fantastically on disease, 242 Its cause and cure–and I must hold my peace! 243 Thou wilt object–why have I not ere this 244 Sought out the sage himself, the Nazarene 245 Who wrought this cure, inquiring at the source, 246 Conferring with the frankness that befits? 247 Alas! it grieveth me, the learned leech 248 Perished in a tumult many years ago, 249 Accused,–our learning's fate,–of wizardry, 250 Rebellion, to the setting up a rule 251 And creed prodigious as described to me. 252 His death, which happened when the earthquake fell 253 (Prefiguring, as soon appeared, the loss 254 To occult learning in our lord the sage 255 Who lived there in the pyramid alone) 256 Was wrought by the mad people–that's their wont! 257 On vain recourse, as I conjecture it, 258 To his tried virtue, for miraculous help– 259 How could he stop the earthquake? That's their way! 260 The other imputations must be lies: 261 But take one, though I loathe to give it thee, 262 In mere respect for any good man's fame. 263 (And after all, our patient Lazarus 264 Is stark mad; should we count on what he says? 265 Perhaps not: though in writing to a leech 266 'Tis well to keep back nothing of a case.) 267 This man so cured regards the curer, then 268 As–God forgive me! who but God himself, 269 Creator and sustainer of the world, 270 That came and dwelt in flesh on 't awhile! 271 –'Sayeth that such an one was born and lived, 272 Taught, healed the sick, broke bread at his own house, 273 Then died, with Lazarus by, for aught I know, 274 And yet was . . . what I said nor choose repeat, 275 And must have so avouched himself, in fact, 276 In hearing of this very Lazarus 277 Who saith–but why all this of what he saith? 278 Why write of trivial matters, things of price 279 Calling at every moment for remark? 280 I noticed on the margin of a pool 281 Blue-flowering borage, the Aleppo sort, 282 Aboundeth, very nitrous. It is strange! 283 Thy pardon for this long and tedious case, 284 Which, now that I review it, needs must seem 285 Unduly dwelt on, prolixly set forth! 286 Nor I myself discern in what is writ 287 Good cause for the peculiar interest 288 And awe indeed this man has touched me with. 289 Perhaps the journey's end, the weariness 290 Had wrought upon me first. I met him thus: 291 I crossed a ridge of short sharp broken hills 292 Like an old lion's cheek teeth. Out there came 293 A moon made like a face with certain spots 294 Multiform, manifold, and menacing: 295 Then a wind rose behind me. So we met 296 In this old sleepy town at unaware, 297 The man and I. I send thee what is writ. 298 Regard it as a chance, a matter risked 299 To this ambiguous Syrian–he may lose, 300 Or steal, or give it thee with equal good. 301 Jerusalem's repose shall make amends 302 For time this letter wastes, thy time and mine; 303 Till when, once more thy pardon and farewell! 304 The very God! think, Abib; dost thou think? 305 So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too– 306 So, through the thunder comes a human voice 307 Saying, "O heart I made, a heart beats here! 308 Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself! 309 Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine, 310 But love I gave thee, with myself to love, 311 And thou must love me who have died for thee!" 312 The madman saith He said so: it is strange.
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