Robert Frost - A Masque of reason: containing A masque of reason, A masque of mercy, two England Biblicals together with Steeple bush, and other poems

The Masque of Death

A MASQUE OF REASON BY ROBERT FROST A fair oasis in the purest desert. A man sits leaning back against a palm. His wife lies by him looking at the sky. Youre not asleep? Youre not asleep? No, I can hear you. Why? I said the incense trees on fire again. I shouldnt be surprised. I shouldnt be surprised. I shouldnt be surprised.

The strangest light!

Theres a strange light on everything today. The myrrh tree gives it. Smell the rosin burning? The ornaments the Greek artificers Made for the Emperor Alexius, The Star of Bethlehem, the pomegranates, The birds, seem all on fire with Paradise. And hark, the gold enameled nightingales Are singing. Yes, and look, the Tree is troubled. Someones caught in the branches. Someones caught in the branches.

So there is. He cant get out.

He cant get out. Hes loose! Hes out! He cant get out. Hes loose! Hes out! Its God. Id know Him by Blakes picture anywhere.

Now whats He doing?

Now whats He doing? Pitching throne, I guess, Here by our atoll. Here by our atoll. Something Byzantine. ( The thrones a plywood flat, prefabricated,
That God pulls lightly upright on its hinges
And stands beside, supporting it in place. ) Perhaps for an Olympic Tournament, Or Court of Love. Or Court of Love.

More likely Royal Court Or Court of Law, and this is Judgment Day. I trust it is. Heres where I lay aside My varying opinion of myself And come to rest in an official verdict. Suffer yourself to be admired, my love, As Waller says.

As Waller says. Or not admired.

Go over And speak to Him before the others come. Tell Him He may remember you: youre Job.

Oh, I remember well: youre Job, my Patient. How are you now? I trust youre quite recovered, And feel no ill effects from what I gave you. Gave me in truth: I like the frank admission. I am a name for being put upon.

But, yes, Im fine, except for now and then A reminiscent twinge of rheumatism. The let-ups heavenly. You perhaps will tell us If that is all there is to be of Heaven, Escape from so great pains of life on earth It gives a sense of let-up calculated To last a fellow to Eternity.

Yes, by and by. But first a larger matter. Ive had you on my mind a thousand years To thank you someday for the way you helped me Establish once for all the principle Theres no connection man can reason out Between his just deserts and what he gets.

Virtue may fail and wickedness succeed. Twas a great demonstration we put on. I should have spoken sooner had I found The word I wanted. You would have supposed One who in the beginning was the Word Would be in a position to command it. I have to wait for words like anyone. Too long Ive owed you this apology For the apparently unmeaning sorrow You were afflicted with in those old days.

But it was of the essence of the trial You shouldnt understand it at the time. It had to seem unmeaning to have meaning. And it came out all right. I have no doubt You realize by now the part you played To stultify the Deuteronomist And change the tenor of religious thought. My thanks are to you for releasing me From moral bondage to the human race. The only free will there at first was mans, Who could do good or evil as he chose.

I had no choice but I must follow him With forfeits and rewards he understood Unless I liked to suffer loss of worship. I had to prosper good and punish evil. You changed all that. You set me free to reign. You are the Emancipator of your God, And as such I promote you to a saint.

You hear him, Thyatira: were a saint.

Salvation in our case is retroactive. Were saved, were saved, whatever else it means.

Well, after all these years! Well, after all these years! This is my wife. If Youre the deity I assume You are (Id know You by Blakes picture anywhere) The best, Im told, I ever have had taken. I have a protest I would lodge with You. Except in their own country, Thyatira. Youre not a witch? Youre not a witch? No. Youre not a witch? No. Youre not a witch? No.

Have you ever been one?

Sometimes she thinks she has and gets herself Worked up about it. But she really hasnt Not in the sense of having to my knowledge Predicted anything that came to pass. The witch of Endor was a friend of mine. You wouldnt say she fared so very badly. I noticed when she called up Samuel His spirit had to come. But she was burned for witchcraft. But she was burned for witchcraft. But she was burned for witchcraft.

That is not Of record in my Note Book.

Of record in my Note Book. Well, she was. And I should like to know the reason why. There you go asking for the very thing Weve just agreed I didnt have to give. ( The throne collapses.

But He picks it up
And this time locks it up and leaves it. ) Where has she been the last half hour or so? She wants to know why there is still injustice. I answer flatly: Thats the way it is, And bid my will avouch it like Macheth. We may as well go back to the beginning And look for justice in the case of Segub.

Oh, Lord, lets not go back to anything. Because your wifes past wont bear looking into? In our great moment what did you do, Madam? What did you try to make your husband say? No, lets not live things over.

I dont care. I stood by Job. I may have turned on You. Job scratched his boils and tried to think what he Had done or not done to or for the poor. The test is always how we treat the poor. Its time the poor were treated by the state In some way not so penal as the poorhouse.

Thats one thing more to put on Your agenda. Job hadnt done a thing, poor innocent. I told him not to scratch: it made it worse. If I said once I said a thousand times, Dont scratch! And when, as rotten as his skin, Has tents blew all to pieces, I picked up Enough to build him every night a pup tent Around him so it wouldnt touch and hurt him. I did my wifely duty. I should tremble! All You can seem to do is lose Your temper When reason-hungry mortals ask for reasons.

Of course, in the abstract high singular There isnt any universal reason; And no one but a man would think there was. You dont catch women trying to be Plato. Still there must be lots of unsystematic Stray scraps of palliative reason It wouldnt hurt You to vouchsafe the faithful. You thought it was agreed You neednt give them. You thought to suit Yourself.

To anything with anyone. To anything with anyone.

There, there, You go to sleep. God must await events As well as words.

As well as words. Im serious. Gods had Aeons of time and still its mostly women Get burned for prophecy, men almost never. God needs time just as much as you or I To get things done.

Reformers fail to see that. Shell go to sleep. Nothing keeps her awake But physical activity, I find. Try to read to her and she drops right off.

Shes beautiful. Shes beautiful.

Yes, she was just remarking She now felt younger by a thousand years Than the day she was born.

Than the day she was born. Thats about right, I should have said. You got your age reversed When time was found to be a space dimension That could, like any space, be turned around in?Next page