John Masefield

“ Beside the vans, the clown, old Circus John,
Growled to the juggler as he sucked his briar,
"How all the marrow of a show was gone
Since women came, to sing and walk the wire,
Killing the clown his act for half his hire,
Killing the circus trade: because," said he,
"Horses and us are what men want to see." ”

“ The Showman:
It was my fault, I always tell my wife
I put too great constraint upon his will;
Things would be changed if he were with us still.
I ought not to have forced him to the trade.
King Cole:
"A forced thing finds a vent," my father said;
And yet a quickening tells me that your son
Is not far from you now; for I am one
Who feels these things, like comfort in the heart.
The couple watched King Cole and shrank apart,
For brightness covered him with glittering.
"Tell me your present troubles," said the King,
"For you are worn. What sorrow makes you sad?" ”

“ The rain dripped from the waggons: the drops glid
Along the pony's flanks; the thick boots stamped
The running muck for warmth, and hope was damped.
Yet all of that small troupe in misery stuck,
Were there by virtue of their nature's choosing
To be themselves and take the season's luck,
Counting the being artists worth the bruising.
To be themselves, as artists, even if losing
Wealth, comfort, health, in doing as they chose,
Alone of all life's ways brought peace to those. ”

“ Maids with wide eyes from upper windows hung,
The children waved their toys and sang aloud.
But in his van the beaten showman bowed
His head upon his hands, and wept, not knowing
[Pg 39] Aught of what passed except that wind was blowing.
All through the town the fluting led them on,
But near the western gate King Cole retired;
And, as he ceased, the vans no longer shone,
The bright procession dimmed like lamps expired;
Again with muddy vans and horses tired,
And artists cross and women out of luck,
The sodden circus plodded through the muck. ”

“ Madness is quickening deadness into birth."
And then, as in the spring when first men hear,
Beyond the black-twigged hedge, the lambling's cry
Coming across the snow, a note of cheer
Before the storm-cock tells that spring is nigh,
[Pg 60] Before the first green bramble pushes shy,
And all the blood leaps at the lambling's notes,
The piping brought men's hearts into their throats. ”

“ In the black midnight still the cock will crow.
There is a help that the abandoned know
Deep in the heart, that conquerors cannot feel.
Abide in hope the turning of the wheel,
The luck will alter and the star will rise.
His presence seemed to change before their eyes. ”

“ The old eyes brightened o'er the pouncet-box,
Remembering loves, and brawls, and mains of cocks.
And through the town the liquid piping's gladness
Thrilled on its way, rejoicing all who heard,
To thrust aside their dullness or their sadness
And follow blithely as the fluting stirred
They hurried to the guild like horses spurred.
There in the road they mustered to await,
They knew not what, a dream, a joy, a fate.
[Pg 61]
And man to man in exaltation cried:
"Something has come to make us young again. ”

“ Where good King Cole most haunts the public way,
Coming from Reading for St. Giles's Fair
Through rain unceasing since Augustine's Day;
The horses spent, the waggons splashed with clay,
The men with heads bowed to the wester roaring,
Heaving the van-wheels up the hill at Goring.
Wearily plodding up the hill they went,
Broken by bitter weather and the luck,
Six vans, and one long waggon with the tent,
[Pg 10] And piebald horses following in the muck,
Dragging their tired hooves out with a suck,
And heaving on, like some defeated tribe
Bound for Despair with Death upon their kibe. ”

“ Green Hairstreaks bright as green shoots on a stalk,
And that dark prince, the oakwood haunting thing
[Pg 51] Dyed with blue burnish like the mallard's wing.
"He was a saint of God," the showman cried.
Meanwhile, within the town, from man to man
The talk about the wondrous circus ran.
All were agreed, that nothing ever known
Had thrilled so tense the marrow in their bone.
All were agreed, that sights so beautiful
Made the Queen's court with all its soldiers dull,
Made all the red-wrapped masts and papered strings
Seem fruit of death, not lovely living things. ”

“ Settled with feathery feet and quivering sense,
Till the white, gleaming robe seemed stuck with eyes.
It was the grinning glitterer, white and wise,
[Pg 69] King Cole, who said, "Madam, the Court is here,
The Court, the Prince, the Queen, all drawing near,
We here, the vanguard, set them on their way.
They come intent to see your circus play.
They ask that all who wish may enter free,
And in their princely hope that this may be
They send you these plump bags of minted gold." ”

“ King Cole, the shining, with his flute of wood,
Waiting until the chattering Court was stilled.
Then from his wooden flute his piping thrilled,
Then all was tense, and then the leaping fluting
Clamoured as flowering clamours for the fruiting.
[Pg 77]
And round the ring came Dodo, the brown mare,
Pied like a tiger-moth; her bright shoes tare
The scattered petals, while the clown came after
Like life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter.
The showman entered in and cracked his whip. ”

“ Blood-loving weasels, honey-harrying brocks,
Stoats, and the mice that build among the wheat,
Dormice, and moles with little hands for feet,
The water-rat that gnaws the yellow flag,
Toads from the stone and merrows from the quag.
And over them flew birds of every kind,
Whose way, or song, or speed, or beauty brings
[Pg 38] Delight and understanding to the mind;
The bright-eyed, feathery, thready-leggéd things. ”

“ Old friendships were restored and sinners shriven.
"We find we cannot part from Will," they said.
[Pg 82]
And while they talked the juggler took the maid
Molly, the singer, to the hawthorn glade
Behind the green-striped tent, and told his love,
A wild delight, beyond her hope, enough
Beyond her dream to brim her eyes with tears. ”

“ The Showman:
You mean, a tramp who flutes for bread and pence?
King Cole:
I come, and flute, and then I wander thence.
The Showman:
Quicksilver Tom, who couldn't keep his place.
King Cole:
My race being run, I love to watch the race.
The Showman:
You ought to seek your rest.
King Cole:
My rest is this,
The world of men, wherever trouble is.
The Showman:
If trouble rests you, God! your life is rest.
[Pg 21] King Cole:
Even the sun keeps moving, east to west.
The Showman:
Little he gets by moving; less than I.
King Cole:
He sees the great green world go floating by. ”

“ Like life, a beauty chased by tragic laughter. ”

“ And the little that one hopes one does not get.
The Wife:
Look, Will, the city gates with sentries set.
The Showman:
It looks to me as if the road were barred.
King Cole:
They are some soldiers of the bodyguard.
I hope, the heralds of your fortune's change.
[Pg 33]
"Now take this frowsy circus off the range,"
The soldiers at the city entrance cried;
"Keep clear the town, you cannot pass inside,
The Prince is here, with other things to do
Than stare at gangs of strollers such as you."
The Showman:
But I am billed to play here; and must play.
The Soldiers:
No must at all. ”

“ No, they're the Queen's; I represent the Queen.
The Showman:
Pipeclay your week's accounts, you red marine.
The Sergeant:
Thank you, I will. Now vanish. Right-about.
[Pg 41] The Showman:
Right, kick the circus in or kick it out,
But kick us, kick us hard, we've got no friends,
We've no Queen's boots or busbies on our ends;
We're poor, we like it, no one cares; besides
These dirty artists ought to have thick hides.
The dust, like us, is fit for boots to stamp,
None but Queen's redcoats are allowed to camp
In this free country.
A Policeman:
What's the trouble here? ”

“ Within the tent, a flare gave blowing light.
There, in their scarlet cart, the bandsmen tuned
Bugles that whinnied, flageolets that crooned
And strings that whined and grunted.
Near the band
Piebald and magpie horses stood at hand
Nosing at grass beneath the green-striped dome
While men caressed them with the curry-comb.
The clowns, with whited, raddled faces, heaped
[Pg 67] Old horse cloths round them to the chins; they peeped
Above the rugs; their cigarette ends' light
Showing black eyes, and scarlet smears and white. ”

“ The luck will alter and the star will rise. ”

“ While others suck their blood and smile and smile. [Pg 46]
You be an artist on the roads a while,
You'll know what justice comes with suffering then.
King Cole:
Friend, I am one grown old with sorrowing men.
The Showman:
The old are tamed, they have not blood to feel.
King Cole:
They've blood to hurt, if not enough to heal. ”

“ From lamp-blacked fingers the mechanic's wrench
Dropped to the kinking wheel chains on the floor,
[Pg 64] The farmer shut the hen roost: at the store
The boys put up the shutters and ran hooting
Wild with delight in freedom to the fluting. ”

“ An old, thin, grinning glitterer, decked with green,
With thready blood-streaks in his visage lean,
And at his wrinkled eyes a look of mirth
[Pg 52] Not common among men who walk the earth;
Yet from his pocket poked a flute of wood,
And little birds were following him for food.
"Sirs," said King Cole (for it was he) , "I know
You seek the Mayor, but you need not so ”