Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) (656 page)

‘The eldest said, “Since when has Forsyth Sahib worn sword?”
‘Forsyth Sahib said, “But always. And I wear it in the Presence when I put on uniform. I am a Colonel in the Armies of Hind.” The eldest said, “Of what regiment?” And Forsyth Sahib looked on the carpet and pulled the hair of his lip. He saw the trap.’
‘Forsyth Sahib’s regiment was once the old Forty-sixth Pathans which was called — ’ the Subadar-Major gave the almost forgotten title, adding that he had met them in such and such campaigns, when Forsyth Sahib was a young captain.
The Havildar-Major took up the tale, saying, ‘The eldest knew that also, my father. He laughed, and presently Forsyth Sahib laughed.
‘“It is true,” said Forsyth Sahib. “I have no regiment. For twenty years I have been a clerk tied to a thick pen. Therefore I am the more fit to be your orderly and messenger in this business.”
‘The eldest then said, “If it were a matter of my life or the honour of
any
of my household, it would be easy.” And Forsyth Sahib joined his hands together, half laughing, though he was ready to weep, and he said, “Enough! I ask pardon. Which one of you goes with the offering?”
‘The eldest said, feigning not to have heard, “Nor must they be delivered by a single sword — as though we were pressed for men in His service,” and they saluted and went out.’
‘Were these things seen, or were they told thee?’ said the Subadar-Major.
‘I both saw and heard in the office full of books and papers where my Colonel Sahib consulted Forsyth Sahib upon the business that had brought my Colonel Sahib to England.’
‘And what was that business?’ the Regimental Chaplain asked of a sudden, looking full at the Havildar-Major, who returned the look without a quiver.
‘That was not revealed to me,’ said the Havildar-Major.
‘I heard it might have been some matter touching the integrity of certain regiments,’ the Chaplain insisted.
‘The matter was not in any way open to my ears,’ said the Havildar-Major.
‘Humph!’ The Chaplain drew his hard road-worn feet under his robe. ‘Let us hear the tale that it is permitted thee to tell,’ he said, and the Havildar-Major went on:
‘So then the three, having returned to the Temple, called the fourth, who had only forty-five years, when he came off guard, and said, “We go to the Palace at Wanidza with the offerings. Remain thou in the Presence, and take all our guards, one after the other, till we return.”
‘Within that next hour they hired a large and strong
mota-kahar
for the journey from the Temple to Wanidza, which is twenty
koss
or more, and they promised expedition. But he who took their guards said, “It is not seemly that we should for any cause appear to be in haste. There are eighteen medals with eleven clasps and three Orders to consider. Go at leisure. I can endure.”
‘So the three with the offerings were absent three hours and a half, and having delivered the offering at Wanidza in the correct manner they returned and found the lad on guard, and they did not break his guard till his full hour was ended. So
he
endured four hours in the Presence, not stirring one hair, his eyes abased, and the river of feet, from the knee down, passing continually before his eyes. When he was relieved, it was seen that his eyeballs worked like weavers’ shuttles.
‘And so it was done — not in hot blood, not for a little while, nor yet with the smell of slaughter and the noise of shouting to sustain, but in silence, for a very long time, rooted to one place before the Presence among the most terrible feet of the multitude.’
‘Correct!’ the Chaplain chuckled.
‘But the Goorkhas had the honour,’ said the Subadar-Major sadly.
‘Theirs was the Honour of His Armies in Hind, and that was Our Honour,’ the nephew replied.
‘Yet I would one Sikh had been concerned in it — even one low-caste Sikh. And after?’
‘They endured the burden until the end — until It went out of the Temple to be laid among the older kings at Wanidza. When all was accomplished and It was withdrawn under the earth, Forsyth Sahib said to the four, “The King gives command that you be fed here on meat cooked by your own cooks. Eat and take ease, my fathers.”
‘So they loosed their belts and ate. They had not eaten food except by snatches for some long time; and when the meat had given them strength they slept for very many hours; and it was told me that the procession of the unendurable feet ceased to pass before their eyes any more.’
He threw out one hand palm upward to show that the tale was ended.
‘We came well and cleanly out of it,’ said the Subadar-Major.
‘Correct! Correct! Correct!’ said the Regimental Chaplain. ‘In an evil age it is good to hear such things, and there is certainly no doubt that this is a very evil age.’

 

 

JOBSON’S AMEN
‘Blessed be the English and all their ways and works.
Cursed be the Infidels, Hereticks, and Turks!’
‘Amen,’ quo’ Jobson, ‘but where I used to lie
Was neither Candle, Bell nor Book to curse my brethren by:
‘But a palm-tree in full bearing, bowing down, bowing down,
To a surf that drove unsparing at the brown-walled town —
Conches in a temple, oil-lamps in a dome —
And a low moon out of Africa said: “This way home!”‘
‘Blessed be the English and all that they profess.
Cursed be the Savages that prance in nakedness!’
‘Amen,’ quo’ Jobson, ‘but where I used to lie
Was neither shirt nor pantaloons to catch my brethren by:
‘But a well-wheel slowly creaking, going round, going round,
By a water-channel leaking over drowned, warm ground —
Parrots very busy in the trellised pepper-vine —
And a high sun over Asia shouting: “Rise and shine!”‘
‘Blessed be the English and everything they own.
Cursed be the Infidels that bow to wood and stone!’
‘Amen,’ quo’ Jobson, ‘but where I used to lie
Was neither pew nor Gospelleer to save my brethren by:
‘But a desert stretched and stricken, left and right, left and right,
Where the piled mirages thicken under white-hot light —
A skull beneath a sand-hill and a viper coiled inside —
And a red wind out of Libya roaring: “Run and hide!”‘
‘Blessed be the English and all they make or do.
Cursed be the Hereticks who doubt that this is true!’
‘Amen,’ quo’ Jobson, ‘but where I mean to die
Is neither rule nor calliper to judge the matter by:
‘But Himalaya heavenward-heading, sheer and vast, sheer and vast,
In a million summits bedding on the last world’s past;
A certain sacred mountain where the scented cedars climb,
And — the feet of my Beloved hurrying back through Time!’

 

 

Regulus

 

(1917)

 

Regulus, a Roman general, defeated the Carthaginians 256 B.C., but was next year defeated and taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, who sent him to Rome with an embassy to ask for peace or an exchange of prisoners. Regulus strongly advised the Roman Senate to make no terms with the enemy. He then returned to Carthage and was put to death.

 

The Fifth Form had been dragged several times in its collective life, from one end of the school Horace to the other. Those were the years when Army examiners gave thousands of marks for Latin, and it was Mr. King’s hated business to defeat them.
Hear him, then, on a raw November morning at second lesson.
‘Aha!’ he began, rubbing his hands. ‘
Cras ingens iterabimus aequor.
Our portion to-day is the Fifth Ode of the Third Book, I believe — concerning one Regulus, a gentleman. And how often have we been through it?’
‘Twice, sir,’ said Malpass, head of the Form.
Mr. King shuddered. ‘Yes, twice, quite literally,’ he said. ‘To-day, with an eye to your Army
viva-voce
examinations — ugh! — I shall exact somewhat freer and more florid renditions. With feeling and comprehension if that be possible. I except’ — here his eye swept the back benches — ’our friend and companion Beetle, from whom, now as always, I demand an absolutely literal translation.’ The form laughed subserviently.
‘Spare his blushes! Beetle charms us first.’
Beetle stood up, confident in the possession of a guaranteed construe, left behind by M’Turk, who had that day gone into the sick-house with a cold. Yet he was too wary a hand to show confidence.

Credidimus
, we — believe — we have believed,’ he opened in hesitating slow time, ‘
tonantem Joven
, thundering Jove —
regnare
, to reign —
caelo
, in heaven.
Augustus
, Augustus —
habebitur
, will be held or considered —
praesens divus
, a present God —
adjectis Britannis
, the Britons being added —
imperio
, to the Empire —
gravibusque Persis
, with the heavy — er, stern Persians.’
‘What?’
‘The grave or stern Persians.’ Beetle pulled up with the ‘Thank-God-I-have-done-my-duty’ air of Nelson in the cockpit.
‘I am quite aware,’ said King, ‘that the first stanza is about the extent of your knowledge, but continue, sweet one, continue.
Gravibus
, by the way, is usually translated as “troublesome.”‘
Beetle drew a long and tortured breath. The second stanza (which carries over to the third) of that Ode is what is technically called a ‘stinker.’ But M’Turk had done him handsomely.

Milesne Crassi
, had — has the soldier of Crassus —
vixit
, lived —
turpis maritus
, a disgraceful husband — ’
‘You slurred the quantity of the word after
turpis
,’ said King. ‘Let’s hear it.’
Beetle guessed again, and for a wonder hit the correct quantity. ‘Er — a disgraceful husband —
conjuge barbara
, with a barbarous spouse.’
‘Why do you select
that
disgustful equivalent out of all the dictionary?’ King snapped. ‘Isn’t “wife” good enough for you?’
‘Yes, sir. But what do I do about this bracket, sir? Shall I take it now?’
‘Confine yourself at present to the soldier of Crassus.’
‘Yes, sir.
Et
, and —
consenuit
, has he grown old —
in armis
, in the — er — arms —
hositum socerorum
, of his father-in-law’s enemies.’
‘Who? How? Which?’
‘Arms of his enemies’ fathers-in-law, sir.’
‘Tha-anks. By the way, what meaning might you attach to
in armis
?’
‘Oh, weapons — weapons of war, sir.’ There was a virginal note in Beetle’s voice as though he had been falsely accused of uttering indecencies. ‘Shall I take the bracket now, sir?’
‘Since it seems to be troubling you.’

Pro Curia
, O for the Senate House —
inversique mores
, and manners upset — upside down.’
‘Ve-ry like your translation. Meantime, the soldier of Crassus?’

Sub rege Medo
, under a Median King —
Marsus et Apulus
, he being a Marsian and an Apulian.’
‘Who? The Median King?’
‘No, sir. The soldier of Crassus.
Oblittus
agrees with
milesne Crassi
, sir,’ volunteered too-hasty Beetle.
‘Does it? It doesn’t with
me
.’

Oh-blight-us
,’ Beetle corrected hastily, ‘forgetful —
anciliorum
, of the shields, or trophies —
et nominis
, and the — his name —
et togae
, and the toga —
eternaeque Vestae
, and eternal Vesta —
incolumi Jove
, Jove being safe —
et urbe Roma
, and the Roman city.’ With an air of hardly restrained zeal — ’Shall I go on, sir?’
Mr. King winced. ‘No, thank you. You have indeed given us a translation! May I ask if it conveys any meaning whatever to your so-called mind?’
‘Oh, I think so, sir.’ This with gentle toleration for Horace and all his works.
‘We envy you. Sit down.’
Beetle sat down relieved, well knowing that a reef of uncharted genitives stretched ahead of him, on which in spite of M’Turk’s sailing-directions he would infallibly have been wrecked.

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