Part 70 (1/2)

But the righteous man will not plunder the defenceful - Not if he be alone and unarmed--for his conscience will smite him; He will not rob a she-bear of her cubs, nor an eagle of her eaglets - Unless he have a rifle to purge him from the fear of sin: Then may he shoot rejoicing in innocency--from ambush or a safe distance; Or he will beguile them, lay poison for them, keep no faith with them; For what faith is there with that which cannot reckon hereafter, Neither by itself, nor by another, nor by any residuum of ill consequences?

Surely, where weakness is utter, honour ceaseth.

Nay, I will do what is right in the eye of him who can harm me, And not in those of him who cannot call me to account.

Therefore yield me up thy pretty wings, O humming-bird!

Sing for me in a prison, O lark!

Pay me thy rent, O widow! for it is mine.

Where there is reckoning there is sin, And where there is no reckoning sin is not.

vii--To Critics and Others

O Critics, cultured Critics!

Who will praise me after I am dead, Who will see in me both more and less than I intended, But who will swear that whatever it was it was all perfectly right: You will think you are better than the people who, when I was alive, swore that whatever I did was wrong And d.a.m.ned my books for me as fast as I could write them; But you will not be better, you will be just the same, neither better nor worse, And you will go for some future Butler as your fathers have gone for me.

Oh! How I should have hated you!

But you, Nice People!

Who will be sick of me because the critics thrust me down your throats, But who would take me willingly enough if you were not bored about me, Or if you could have the cream of me--and surely this should suffice: Please remember that, if I were living, I should be upon your side And should hate those who imposed me either on myself or others; Therefore, I pray you, neglect me, burlesque me, boil me down, do whatever you like with me, But do not think that, if I were living, I should not aid and abet you.

There is nothing that even Shakespeare would enjoy more than a good burlesque of Hamlet.

viii--For Narcissus

(A)

(To be written in front of the orchestral score.)

May he be d.a.m.ned for evermore Who tampers with Narcissus' score; May he by poisonous snakes be bitten Who writes more parts than what we've written.

We tried to make our music clear For those who sing and those who hear, Not lost and muddled up and drowned In over-done orchestral sound; So kindly leave the work alone Or do it as we want it done.

(B)

Part II

Symphony

(During which the audience is requested to think as follows:)

An aged lady taken ill Desires to reconstruct her will; I see the servants hurrying for The family solicitor; Post-haste he comes and with him brings The usual necessary things.

With common form and driving quill He draws the first part of the will, The more sonorous solemn sounds Denote a hundred thousand pounds, This trifle is the main bequest, Old friends and servants take the rest.

'Tis done! I see her sign her name, I see the attestors do the same.

Who is the happy legatee?

In the next number you will see.