The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight DramasBridges, Robert
General
The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight Dramas
Bridges, Robert
English poetry
IN. O that I knew where I might counsel find,
That one were sent, nay, were't the least of all
The myriad messengers of heaven, to me!
One that should say 'This morn I stood with Zeus,
He hath heard thy prayer and sent me: ask a boon,
What thing thou wilt, it shall be given thee.'
PR. What wouldst thou say to such a messenger?
IN. No need to ask then what I now might ask,
How 'tis the gods, if they have care for mortals,
Slubber our worst necessities--and the boon, 670
No need to tell him that.
PR. Now, king, thou seest
Zeus sends no messenger, but I am here.
IN. Thy speech is hard, and even thy kindest words
Unkind. If fire thou hast, in thee 'tis kind
To proffer it: but thou art more unkind
Yoking heaven's wrath therewith. Nay, and how knowest thou
Zeus will be angry if I take of it?
Thou art a prophet: ay, but of the prophets
Some have been taken in error, and honest time
Has honoured many with forgetfulness. 680
I'll make this proof of thee; Show me thy fire--
Nay, give't me now--if thou be true at all,
Be true so far: for the rest there's none will lose,
Nor blame thee being false--where is thy fire?
PR. O rather, had it thus been mine to give,
I would have given it thus: not adding aught
Of danger or diminishment or loss;
So strong is my goodwill; nor less than this
My knowledge, but in knowledge all my power.
Yet since wise guidance with a little means 690
Can more than force unminded, I have skill
To conjure evil and outcompass strength.
Now give I thee my best, a little gift
To work a world of wonder; 'tis thine own
Of long desire, and with it I will give
The cunning of invention and all arts
In which thy hand instructed may command,
Interpret, comfort, or ennoble nature;
With all provision that in wisdom is,
And what prevention in foreknowledge lies. 700
IN. Great is the gain.
PR. O king, the gain is thine,
The penalty I more than share.
IN. Enough,
I take thy gift; nor hast thou stood more firm
To every point of thy strange chequered tale,
Revealing, threatening, offering more and more,
And never all, than I to this resolve.
PR. I knew thy heart would fail not at the hour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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