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The Floating Press - Stevenson Robert Louis

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38 pages

English

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Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894) is most famous for his novels Treasure Island and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. His book of ballads draws on the traditional stories of his native Scotland as well as on the fantastical places of his imagination. Stevenson was a great traveler, living out the last years of his life in the Pacific. He was admired by many of his fellow novelists but contemporary critics counted his popularity against his literary talent. He has recently come to be regarded one of the canon.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 janvier 2009
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775411475
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0334€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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BALLADS
* * *
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

*

Ballads From a 1895 edition.
ISBN 978-1-775411-47-5
© 2008 THE FLOATING PRESS.
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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THE SONG OF RAHERO I. The Slaying of Tamatea II. The Venging of Tamatea III. Rahero THE FEAST OF FAMINE I. The Priest's Vigil II. The Lovers III. The Feast IV. The Raid TICONDEROGA I. The Saying of the Name II. The Seeking of the Name III. The Place of the Name HEATHER ALE CHRISTMAS AT SEA Endnotes
THE SONG OF RAHERO
*
A LEGEND OF TAHITI
TO ORI A ORI
Ori, my brother in the island mode, In every tongue and meaning much my friend, This story of your country and your clan, In your loved house, your too much honoured guest, I made in English. Take it, being done; And let me sign it with the name you gave.
TERIITERA.
I. The Slaying of Tamatea
*
It fell in the days of old, as the men of Taiarapu tell,A youth went forth to the fishing, and fortune favoured him well.Tamatea his name: gullible, simple, and kind,Comely of countenance, nimble of body, empty of mind,His mother ruled him and loved him beyond the wont of a wife,Serving the lad for eyes and living herself in his life.Alone from the sea and the fishing came Tamatea the fair,Urging his boat to the beach, and the mother awaited him there,- "Long may you live!" said she. "Your fishing has sped to a wish.And now let us choose for the king the fairest of all your fish.For fear inhabits the palace and grudging grows in the land,Marked is the sluggardly foot and marked the niggardly hand,The hours and the miles are counted, the tributes numbered and weighed,And woe to him that comes short, and woe to him that delayed!"
So spoke on the beach the mother, and counselled the wiser thing.For Rahero stirred in the country and secretly mined the king.Nor were the signals wanting of how the leaven wrought,In the cords of obedience loosed and the tributes grudgingly brought.And when last to the temple of Oro the boat with the victim sped,And the priest uncovered the basket and looked on the face of the dead,Trembling fell upon all at sight of an ominous thing,For there was the aito [1] dead, and he of the house of the king.
So spake on the beach the mother, matter worthy of note,And wattled a basket well, and chose a fish from the boat;And Tamatea the pliable shouldered the basket and went,And travelled, and sang as he travelled, a lad that was well content.Still the way of his going was round by the roaring coast,Where the ring of the reef is broke and the trades run riot the most.On his left, with smoke as of battle, the billows battered the land;Unscalable, turreted mountains rose on the inner hand.And cape, and village, and river, and vale, and mountain above,Each had a name in the land for men to remember and love;And never the name of a place, but lo! a song in its praise:Ancient and unforgotten, songs of the earlier days,That the elders taught to the young, and at night, in the full of the moon,Garlanded boys and maidens sang together in tune.Tamatea the placable went with a lingering foot;He sang as loud as a bird, he whistled hoarse as a flute;He broiled in the sun, he breathed in the grateful shadow of trees,In the icy stream of the rivers he waded over the knees;And still in his empty mind crowded, a thousand-fold,The deeds of the strong and the songs of the cunning heroes of old.
And now was he come to a place Taiarapu honoured the most,Where a silent valley of woods debouched on the noisy coast,Spewing a level river. There was a haunt of Pai. [2] There, in his potent youth, when his parents drove him to die,Honoura lived like a beast, lacking the lamp and the fire,Washed by the rains of the trade and clotting his hair in the mire;And there, so mighty his hands, he bent the tree to his foot -So keen the spur of his hunger, he plucked it naked of fruit.There, as she pondered the clouds for the shadow of coming ills,Ahupu, the woman of song, walked on high on the hills.
Of these was Rahero sprung, a man of a godly race;And inherited cunning of spirit and beauty of body and face.Of yore in his youth, as an aito, Rahero wandered the land,Delighting maids with his tongue, smiting men with his hand.Famous he was in his youth; but before the midst of his lifePaused, and fashioned a song of farewell to glory and strife.
House of mine (it went), house upon the sea,Belov'd of all my fathers, more belov'd by me!Vale of the strong Honoura, deep ravine of Pai,Again in your woody summits I hear the trade-wind cry.
House of mine, in your walls, strong sounds the sea,Of all sounds on earth, dearest sound to me.I have heard the applause of men, I have heard it arise and die:Sweeter now in my house I hear the trade-wind cry.
These were the words of his singing, other the thought of his heart;For secret desire of glory vexed him, dwelling apart.Lazy and crafty he was, and loved to lie in the sun,And loved the cackle of talk and the true word uttered in fun;Lazy he was, his roof was ragged, his table was lean,And the fish swam safe in his sea, and he gathered the near and the green.He sat in his house and laughed, but he loathed the king of the land,And he uttered the grudging word under the covering hand.Treason spread from his door; and he looked for a day to come,A day of the crowding people, a day of the summoning drum,When the vote should be taken, the king be driven forth in disgrace,And Rahero, the laughing and lazy, sit and rule in his place,Here Tamatea came, and beheld the house on the brook;And Rahero was there by the way and covered an oven to cook. [3] Naked he was to the loins, but the tattoo covered the lack,And the sun and the shadow of palms dappled his muscular back.Swiftly he lifted his head at the fall of the coming feet,And the water sprang in his mouth with a sudden desire of meat;For he marked the basket carried, covered from flies and the sun; [4] And Rahero buried his fire, but the meat in his house was done.
Forth he stepped; and took, and delayed the boy, by the hand;And vaunted the joys of meat and the ancient ways of the land:- "Our sires of old in Taiarapu, they that created the race,Ate ever with eager hand, nor regarded season or place,Ate in the boat at the oar, on the way afoot; and at nightArose in the midst of dreams to rummage the house for a bite.It is good for the youth in his turn to follow the way of the sire;And behold how fitting the time! for here do I cover my fire."- "I see the fire for the cooking but never the meat to cook,"Said Tamatea.—"Tut!" said Rahero. "Here in the brookAnd there in the tumbling sea, the fishes are thick as flies,Hungry like healthy men, and like pigs for savour and size:Crayfish crowding the river, sea-fish thronging the sea."- "Well it may be," says the other, "and yet be nothing to me.Fain would I eat, but alas! I have needful matter in hand,Since I carry my tribute of fish to the jealous king of the land."
Now at the word a light sprang in Rahero's eyes."I will gain me a dinner," thought he, "and lend the king a surprise."And he took the lad by the arm, as they stood by the side of the track,And smiled, and rallied, and flattered, and pushed him forward and back.It was "You that sing like a bird, I never have heard you sing,"And "The lads when I was a lad were none so feared of a king.And of what account is an hour, when the heart is empty of guile?But come, and sit in the house and laugh with the women awhile;And I will but drop my hook, and behold! the dinner made."
So Tamatea the pliable hung up his fish in the shadeOn a tree by the side of the way; and Rahero carried him in,Smiling as smiles the fowler when flutters the bird to the gin,And chose him a shining hook, [5] and viewed it with sedulous eye,And breathed and burnished it well on the brawn of his naked thigh,And set a mat for the gull, and bade him be merry and bide,Like a man concerned for his guest, and the fishing, and nothing beside.
Now when Rahero was forth, he paused and hearkened, and heardThe gull jest in the house and the women laugh at his word;And stealthily crossed to the side of the way, to the shady placeWhere the basket hung on a mango; and craft transfigured his face.Deftly he opened the basket, and took of the fat of the fish,The cut of kings and chieftains, enough for a goodly dish.This he wrapped in a leaf, set on the fire to cookAnd buried; and next the marred remains of the tribute he took,And doubled and packed them well, and covered the basket close- "There is a buffet, my king," quoth he, "and a nauseous dose!" -And hung the basket again in the shade, in a cloud of flies- "And there is a sauce to your dinner, king of the crafty eyes!"
Soon as the oven was open, the fish smelt excellent good.In the shade, by the house of Rahero, down they sat to their food,And cleared the leaves [6] in silence, or uttered a jest and laughed,And raising the cocoanut bowls, buried their faces and quaffed.But chiefly in silence they ate; and soon as the meal was done,Rahero feigned to remember and measured the hour by the sun,And "Tamatea," quoth he, "it is time to be jogging, my lad."