The Self-Sacrificing Dove
[inside Book 3. Crows and Owls]
A ghastly fowler plied his trade
Of horror in a forest; made
All living creatures hold their breath:
He seemed to them the god of death.
He had no comrade on the earth,
No friend, no relative by birth.
They all renounced him; he had made
Them do so by his horrid trade.
For you know
The dreadful wretches bringing death
On those who love their living breath,
With natural repulsion (like
Fierce serpents) fill before they strike.
To snare, to imprison, and to drub
He took a net, a cage, a club,
And wandering daily in the wood,
He brought all creatures harm, not good.
While he was in the wood one day,
The sky grew black with clouds straightway;
So wild the wind, so fierce the rain,
It seemed the world dissolved in pain.
Then, as the heart within him quivered,
And every limb grew numb and shivered,
He sought where might a refuge be,
And chanced to come upon a tree.
Now as he rested, near and far
In sudden-clearing skies, each star
Shone bright; and he had wit to pray:
"O Lord, be kind to me today."
There was a dove upon the tree
Whose nest was in a cavity;
And since his wife was absent long,
He grieved for her in mournful song:
"The wind and rain were very great,
And my belov&d wife is late
In coming home. When she is not
At home, home is an empty spot.
"The house is not the home; but where
The wife is found, the home is there.
The home without the wife is less
To me than some wild wilderness.
"Some wives their life's devotion give,
And in and for the husband live;
Whatever man has such a wife
Is heaped with blessings all his life."
From fowling-cage the female dove
Had caught the speech of grief and love;
And she was deeply gratified,
And to her husband thus replied:
"No woman earns the name of bride
Whose husband is not satisfied.
If he is happy, she may know
The gods she venerates are so.
"That woman should be burned entire
(Like vines that fade in forest-fire
While blossoms drop from clustered side)
Whose husband is not satisfied."
And she continued:
"Oh, hearken heedfully, my dear;
My words are good for you to hear;
Though it should cost your life, defend
The guest who seeks in you a friend.
"Here lies a fowler; as a guest
He asks for comfort at your nest.
Since cold and hunger press him sore,
Begrudge him not from honour's store.
And the Scripture says:
"Whoever does not give his best
To cheer the late-arriving guest
Will see his merit borne away,
And for the other's sins will pay.
"Oh, let no hate against him rise
Who caged the wife you idolize;
It is my sins of former lives
That, fateful, hold me in the gives [fetters].
For well you know:
"Disease, and poverty, and pain,
With woe that prison brings amain
[with great strength, speed, or haste],
Are all the fruit of one sole tree,
Our own, our past iniquity.
"Abandon, therefore, thoughts of hate
Deriving from my captive state;
On virtue set your heart; and pay
This man such honour as you may."
On listening to his darling, who
Seemed virtue-woven through and through,
An unknown courage fired the dove;
He gave the fowler words of love.
"A hearty welcome, sir, to you;
What for your service may I do?
No more let anxious fancies roam,
For here with me you are at home."
In answer to his kindly words
Replied the murderer of birds:
"Well, dove, the cold is in me still;
Give me a remedy for chill."
The dove then brought a bonfire's sole
Surviving ember - one live coal,
And where a pile of dry leaves lay,
He kindled it to fire straightway.
"Now, sir, take heart; forgetting fear,
Resuscitate your members here;
Alas! I cannot put to flight
The cravings of your appetite.
"One patron feeds a thousand men;
One feeds a hundred; one feeds ten.
But I, whose virtue does not thrive,
Scarce keep my puny self alive.
"Ah, if you have not in your nest
Provision for a single guest,
Why occupy today, tomorrow
A nest that harbours nothing but sorrow?
"I shall destroy my body, fain
To end its living with its pain,
That nevermore I stand confessed
Powerless to aid a needy guest."
And thus he blamed himself, you see;
The greedy fowler went scot-free:
Then - "I may yet your craving sate,
If one mere moment you will wait."
Whereat that creature free from sin,
Joy-quivering his soul within,
Walked round the fire, as it had been
His cherished home, and entered in.
When this the greedy fowler saw,
Compassion filled his soul, and awe.
He, while the dove was cooking, spoke
What from his heart a passage broke:
"None loves his soul, it's very plain,
Who smears it with a sinful stain.
The soul commits the sin; and late
Or soon, the soul must expiate.
"My thoughts are evil; my desire
Is ever set on what is dire:
It needs but little wit to tell
I steer my course for ghastly hell.
"A moral lesson let me draw
From what my savage spirit saw.
The high-souled dove, that I may eat,
Has sacrificed himself for meat.
"Henceforth let all enjoyment be
An unfamiliar thing to me;
I'll share the shallow water's fate
In August; will evaporate.
"Cold, wind, and heat I will embrace,
Grow thin and dirty, form and face,
Will fast by every method known,
Seek virtue, perfect and alone."
The fowler then a-pieces tore
Club, peg, net, cage - and what is more,
Set free the wretched female dove
Who sorrowed for her perished love.
But she, released from clutches dire,
Beheld her husband in the fire;
Whereat she gave expression so
To thoughts of horror and of woe:
"My lord! My love! What shall I do
With life that drags, apart from you?
What profit has a wretched wife,
Without a husband, of her life?
"For self-esteem, respect, and pride,
The family honour paid a bride,
Authority with all the brood
Of servants, die with widowhood."
Now after this lamenting sore,
This sorrow bitter evermore,
She went where lay her heart's desire,
Walked straight into the blazing fire.
And lo! She sees her husband shine -
Oh, wonder! - in a car divine;
Her body wears a heavenly gown;
And heavenly gems hang pendent down.
While he, become a god, addressed
True consolation to her breast:
"The deed that you have done, is meet
In following your husband, sweet.
"There grow upon a man alive
Some thirty million hairs and five;
So many years in heaven spend
Wives following husbands to the end."
So he joyfully took her into the chariot, embraced her, and lived happily. But the fowler sank into the deepest despondency, and plunged into a great forest, meditating death.
And there he saw a forest-fire
And entered it; for all desire
Was dead. His sins were burned away;
He went to heaven, there to stay.
"And that is why I say:
The dove (there mentioned) entertained
His suppliant foeman slaughter-stained;
Paid honour due, his guest to greet;
And sacrificed himself for meat."
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