Punch (103.1892)

July 23, 1892.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

33

COLOURABLE SHAKSPEARIAN IMITATION."

Othello, M. P. for Central Finsbury {saluting Sarum, Doge of Vestminster). '' Haply that I am
Black-" [Doge shudders, but feels unable to withdraw.

OPERATIC NOTES.

Wednesday. — Crowded for
Wagner's Gotterdammerung,
"which," says the Rev. Mr. Penley,
who " doesn't like London," " is such
an awful name, that fond as I am of
music, I really could not go and see
it." As to Wagner, well, " it's all
right when you know him, but you' ve
got to know him fust."

Herr Alvary excellent as Sieg-
fried ; Herr Wiegand powerful;
ditto the wide-awake Herr Knapp.
Frau Klafsky, a beautiful and in-
teresting Briinnhilde ; and it is diffi-
cult to be personally interesting in a
Wagnerian Opera, where ensemble
is everything. Fraulein Heine: and
Bettaque, equally good.

Herr Mahler was " called," with
the rest of the company, to receive
his meed of praise for conducting.
Opera perfectly put on Stage by
Herr von Druriolanus, and though
the Season is coming to an end, yet
the Opera is still "going strong."

Note and Query by Mrs. R.—Our
old friend wants to know from what
Poet comes this quotation—

" A needless Salamander ends the line."

Mrs. R. thinks it's from Pope ; but
if so, she asks what Pope ? as there
are so many of 'em.

Ornamental Structure in New
Norfolk.—A Triumphal Arch.

STUDIES IN THE NEW POETEY.
No. IV.

In offering this fourth example of the New Poetry to his readers,
Mr. Punch wishes it to be distinctly understood, that he is in no way
responsible, personally, for the curious mixture of divinities and
semi-divinities who figure in it. It is one of the distinguishing
marks of this particular sort of New Poetry to pile up a confusion of
more or less mythological names in a series of swinging and resonant
lines. In one line the reader may imagine himself to be embarked
on the River Cocy tus. In the next, he will be surprised to find him-
self in Eden. Blood, battle, bumptiousness, and an aggressive
violence, are special characteristics of this style of writing. Some
of the lines apparently mean nothing at all, others are calculated to
make timid people tremble ; and the effect of the whole is generally
picturesque, lurid, and uncomfortable.

One of the great advantages of a poem like this, is that it may be
used for all kinds of purposes. For example, if it was originally
written as an invective against an opponent, it may afterwards, with
the utmost ease, be made to serve as a threnody. Here then without
further preface is :—

THE SUNDERED FLEA.
By Mr. R*dy*rd K*pl*ng.

Out on the path of the blazing ball that has hurtled a million years,
Where the uttermost light glows red by night in the clash of the

angry spheres, [young,
Where never a tear-drop dims the eye, and sorrows are stified
And the Anglo-Indians snigger and sneer with the jest of a bitter

tongue.

Where the tribesmen mock at the Bengalee 'and shiver their spears
in vain,

And officers steep their souls chin-deep in brandy and dry
champagne; [Kipling seas,

Where the Rudyard 'river runs, flecked with foam, far forth to the
And the maker of man takes walks abroad with Pagan deities.

Where Azrael talks to the Graces Three, and the Muses Nine stand by,
And ask Greek riddles of Buddha, who never makes reply,
(Gentlemen all and ladies too as smart as a brand-new pin),
And nobody wonders how on earth so mixed a lot got in-

Here in the track of a thunderbolt from the nethernmost smithy
hurled, [shattered world,

With the groan of an ancient passion rent from the wreck of a

In the white-hot pincers of Baal borne through cycles of agony,
Lit by the Pit's red wrath there came the Soul of a Sundered Flea.

And all that company started back ; first Azrael grimly smiled.
The smile that an East-End Coster smiles, by a stout policeman riled;
And Buddha made no remark at all, but nodded his heavy head,
Like a boy who has eaten too much dessert, and wants to be put
to bed.

And the Muses Nine, as they stood in line, they shuddered and turned
to go.

" A joke's a joke, but I can't bear fleas," said Clio to Erato.
And the Graces, the good Conservative Three, shrank back to a spot
remote,

And observed that they knew that this would come from letting the
Masses vote.

Then Azrael spake—"On the Stygian lake I floated a half-sinned sin
On the crest of a cross-grained stickleback, that is caught with a
crooked pin;

For a year and a day I watched it whirl, but never that sin could be
One-half so base as your gruesome face, 0 Soul of a Sundered Flea!

'' What ill have ye done ? Speak up, speak up !—f or this is no place,
I trow,

For the puling people on virtue fed. So speak, or prepare to go."
But the Flea flew free from the pincers' grip, and uttered a single
phrase—

" I have lived on blood, as a gentleman should, and that is my claim
to praise."

Then a shout of joy from the throng went forth; they built him a
crystal throne,

And there in his pride, with none beside, he rules and he reigns alone.
And this is the tale which I here set down, as the story was told to
me—

In excellent Rudyard-Kipling verse—the tale of the Sundered Flea.

Anticipatory News {from Our Own Court Tripping Newsman).
—Sir Algernon Borthwick, Bart, M.P., will be raised to the Peer-
age with the title of Lord Morningpost, of Penniwise, Seefar-
shire, N.B.

An Anti-lawn-tennis Lady considers that the argument against
Croquet, as a game involving a bent back, and a narrowing of the
chest, is merely " A very stoopit objection."