Canto 12A Dialogue
Book 4. Part Four - Calcutta and Chandernagore 1907 – 1910
ACHAB
Stamp out, stamp out the sun from the high blue
And all o’erarching firmament of heaven;
Forget the mighty ocean when it spumes
5Under the thunder-deafened cliffs and soars
To crown their tops with spray, but never hope
That Baal will excuse, Baal forgive.
That’s an ambition more impossible,
A thought more rebel from the truth.
10ESARHADDON
Baal!
It seems to me that thou believ’st in Baal!
ACHAB
And what dost thou believe in? The gross crowd
15Believe the sun is God or else a stone.
This though I credit not, yet Baal lives.
ESARHADDON
And if he lives, then you and I are Baal,
Deserve as much the prayer and sacrifice
20As he does. Nay, then, sit and tell him, “Lord,
If thou art Baal, let the fire be lit
Upon thy altar without agency,
Let men believe.” Can God do this, and if
He cannot, if he needs a flint and fuel
25And human hands to light his sacred fire,
Is he not less than man? The flint and fuel
Are for our work sufficient. What is he
If not a helpless name that cannot live
Unless men’s lips repeat him?
30Poems from Manuscripts
ACHAB
And the flint,
The fuel? Who made these or formed the hands
That lit the fire? the lips that prove him nothing?
35Or who gave thee thy clear and sceptic brain,
Thy statecraft and thy bold and scornful will
Despising what thou usest? Was it thou
That mad’st them?
ESARHADDON
40No, my parents did. Say then
The seed is God that touched my mother’s womb
And by familiar process built this house
Inhabited by Esarhaddon.
ACHAB
45Who
Fashioned the seed?
ESARHADDON
It grew from other seed,
That out of earth and water, light and heat,
50And ether, eldest creature of the world.
All is a force that irresistibly
Works by its nature which it cannot help,
And that is I and that the wood and flint,
That Achab, that Assyria, that the world.
55ACHAB
How came the force in being?
ESARHADDON
From of old
It is.
60Calcutta and Chandernagore, 1907–1910
ACHAB
Then why not call it Baal?
ESARHADDON
For me
65I care not what ’tis called, Mithra or God.
You call it Baal, Perizade says
’Tis Ormuzd, Mithra and the glorious Sun.
I say ’tis force.
ACHAB
70Then wherefore strive to change
Assyria’s law, o’erthrow the cult of Baal?
ESARHADDON
I do not, for it crumbles of itself.
Why keep the rubbish? Priest, I need a cult
75More gentle and less bloody to the State,
Not crying at each turn for human blood
Which means the loss of so much labour, gold,
Soldiers and strength. This Mithra’s worship is.
Come, priest, you are incredulous yourself,
80But guard your trade, so do I mine, so all.
Will it be loss to you, if it be said
Baal and Mithra, these are one, but Baal
Changes and grows more mild and merciful,
A friend to men? Or if instead of blood’s
85Unprofitable revenue we give
Offerings of price, and heaps of captive gold
In place of conquered victims?
ACHAB
So you urge,
90The people’s minds are not so mobile yet.
Poems from Manuscripts
ESARHADDON
If you and I agree, who will refuse?
I care not, man, how it is done. Invent
95Scriptures, forge ancient writings, let the wild
Mystics who slash their limbs on Baal’s hill,
Cry out the will of Baal while they slash.
You are subtle, if you choose. The head of all
Assyria’s state ecclesiastical,
100Assured a twentieth of my revenues,
And right of all the offerings votaries heap
On Mithra, that’s promotion more than any
Onan can give, the sullen silent slave,
Or Ikbal Sufa with his politic brain.
105ACHAB
Why that?
ESARHADDON
You think I do not know! I see
Each motion of your close conspiring brains,
110Achab.
ACHAB
And if you do, why hold your hand?
ESARHADDON
That’s boldly questioned, almost honestly.
115Because a State is ill preserved by blood.
The policy that sees a fissure here,
A wall in ill repair, and builds it up,
Is better than to raze the mansion down
And make it new. I know the people’s mind
120Sick of a malady no leech can name;
I see a dangerous motion in the soil,
Calcutta and Chandernagore, 1907–1910
And make my old foundations sure. Achab,
You know I have a sword, and yet it sleeps;
125I offer you the gem upon the hilt
And friendship. Will you take it? See, I need
A brain as clear as yours, a heart as bold.
What should I do by killing you, but lose
A statesman born?
130ACHAB
You have conquered, King. I yield.
ESARHADDON
’Tis well. Here is my hand on our accord.