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Title: Pumpus Of Perusia
Author: Joseph Victor Scheffel [
More Titles by Scheffel]
Feucht hing die Sonne. Des Novembers Schauer ging
Mit leisem Frösteln durch das Land Hetruria.
Anpumpen, to pump, is a German slang term for borrowing. Pumpus was
the name of an Etruscan prince.
Dim was the sunlight, and November shivering
Ran with a light frost o'er the land Etruria,
A gentle head-ache of the last night's origin,
Went threading through the air with weary pinion-beat;
A weak and bankrupt feeling lay on hill and dale,
The sacred olive tree, whose last thin yellow leaf
Thrilled in the wind, stretched mournfully its branches forth
Barren and bare, as wanting what was needfullest;
E'en the street pavement was suspicious. To the eye
The old primæval basalt's firm material
Seemed changed that day to very porous carbonate,
And all things--all things--all things had a seedy look.
Such was the day when, in the early morning hour,
A weary wight from Populonia's portal went;
In vain the guard on the Cyclopean city wall
Cast on the lord a hopeful glance for drink-money,--
He drew him back--and glared at him--and gave nothing.
There where the road goes winding towards Suessulæ,
And some old priest's strange ten-pin-towered monument
Mournfully casts a shadow o'er the bleaching field,
He paused awhile--in the reed grass stuck his javelin,
And in his chlamys foldings sadly sought awhile,
Then sought again--then made one more experiment--
Yet found not what he sought for.
Oh, who knows the pain
Which rears up horse-like in a brave Etruscan heart
When all things--all things--all things tend to poverty,
And the horror of the Empty in the pocket dwells
Where once the sesterce gaily by the denar rang!
The helm removing from his heavy-laden head,
He raised his right hand to his forehead thoughtfully,
His tearful glance went back to Populonia,
And lurid lightning flickered from his hero-eye.
'Oh thou Chimæra Tavern!' said he mournfully,
'Was that the end of 't? Meant that the flock of birds
Which three days past went croaking to the left hand side?
Said that the oxen's, entrails enigmatical?
Oh thou Chimæra Tavern, what is pleasanter
Than entering as a guest into thy guest-chamber?
There neatly waits the experienced tavern-keeper;
And heroes round the cool wine are convivial;
Around the noble hill-descended Dimeros.
From drinking mouths comes wisdom flowing thoughtfully,
While at the upper linen-covered long table,
Where Tegulinum's augur to the latest hour,
Sternly defying, stands it like a bronze column,
And sings in glees; that wonderful astrologer;--
Oh thou Chimæra Tavern, tell--if possible--
Whither goes hurrying?--ha! what was't I nearly spoke?--
What word--thrice god-curst word--on which--oh horrible!
Hangs the Etruscan fate--ay, that's it--Ready Money!
Oh Fufluns! Fufluns! Bacchus--dark and terrible!
Now all is gone--away and gone away--ha--hummm!
And yet a deed, I swear 't shall now by me be done,
Such as the stupid world in dream has never dreamed,
Shuddering and cold--my name shall to posterity
By this one deed be carried, awful, horrible,
As true as I by this priest's grave am standing now,
I--Pumpus of Perusia, the Etruscan prince.'
He said--and went. A sunbeam fell uncannily
On spear and helm. Cold light was o'er the cypresses,
Deep the gale sighed--grave-deep--like moaning far-away.
The world was innocent then. As yet no one had known
The law of contracts with its windings intricate,
And e'en the sage in silver beard was ignorant
Of loans or such a deed as money borrowing;
Yet on that day i' the forest by Suessulæ
One hero by another bold was borrowed from!
This is the song of Pumpus of Perusia.
[The end]
Joseph Victor Scheffel's poem: Pumpus Of Perusia
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