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　　LETTER 39

　　CHARLES LAMB TO ROBERT SOUTHEY

　　[Probably November, 1798.]

　　The following is a second Extract from my Tragedy that is to be,—'tis narrated by an old Steward to Margaret, orphan ward of Sir Walter Woodvil;—this, and the Dying Lover I gave you, are the only extracts I can give without mutilation. I expect you to like the old woman's curse:

　　Old Steward.—One summer night, Sir Walter, as it chanc'd,

　　Was pacing to & fro in the avenue

　　That westward fronts our house,

　　Among those aged oaks, said to have been planted

　　Three hundred years ago

　　By a neighb'ring Prior of the Woodvil name,

　　But so it was,

　　Being overtask't in thought, he heeded not

　　The importune suitor who stood by the gate,

　　And beg'd an alms.

　　Some say he shov'd her rudely from the gate

　　With angry chiding; but I can never think

　　(Sir Walter's nature hath a sweetness in it)

　　That he would use a woman—an old woman—

　　With such discourtesy;

　　For old she was who beg'd an alms of him.

　　Well, he refus'd her;

　　Whether for importunity, I know not,

　　Or that she came between his meditations.

　　But better had he met a lion in the streets

　　Than this old woman that night;

　　For she was one who practis'd the black arts.

　　And served the devil—being since burn'd for witchcraft.

　　She look'd at him like one that meant to blast him,

　　And with a frightful noise

　　('Twas partly like a woman's voice,

　　And partly like the hissing of a snake)

　　She nothing said but this (Sir Walter told the words):

　　"A mischief, mischief, mischief,

　　And a nine-times killing curse,

　　By day and by night, to the caitive wight

　　Who shakes the poor like snakes from his door,

　　And shuts up the womb of his purse;

　　And a mischief, mischief, mischief,

　　And a nine-fold withering curse,—

　　For that shall come to thee, that will render thee

　　Both all that thou fear'st, and worse."

　　These words four times repeated, she departed,

　　Leaving Sir Walter like a man beneath

　　Whose feet a scaffolding had suddenly fal'n:

　　So he describ'd it.

　　Margaret.—A terrible curse!

　　Old Steward.—O Lady, such bad things are told of that old woman,

　　As, namely, that the milk she gave was sour,

　　And the babe who suck'd her shrivel'd like a mandrake;

　　And things besides, with a bigger horror in them,

　　Almost, I think, unlawful to be told!

　　Margaret.—Then must I never hear them. But proceed,

　　And say what follow'd on the witch's curse.

　　Old Steward.—Nothing immediate; but some nine months after,

　　Young Stephen Woodvil suddenly fell sick,

　　And none could tell what ail'd him: for he lay,

　　And pin'd, and pin'd, that all his hair came off;

　　And he, that was full-flesh'd, became as thin

　　As a two-months' babe that hath been starved in the nursing;—

　　And sure, I think,

　　He bore his illness like a little child,

　　With such rare sweetness of dumb melancholy

　　He strove to clothe his agony in smiles,

　　Which he would force up in his poor, pale cheeks,

　　Like ill-tim'd guests that had no proper business there;—

　　And when they ask'd him his complaint, he laid

　　His hand upon his heart to show the place

　　Where Satan came to him a nights, he said,

　　And prick'd him with a pin.—

　　And hereupon Sir Walter call'd to mind

　　The Beggar Witch that stood in the gateway,

　　And begg'd an alms—

　　Margaret.—I do not love to credit Tales of magic.

　　Heav'n's music, which is order, seems unstrung;

　　And this brave world,

　　Creation's beauteous work, unbeautified,

　　Disorder'd, marr'd, where such strange things are acted.

　　This is the extract I brag'd of, as superior to that I sent you from Marlow. Perhaps you smile; but I should like your remarks on the above, as you are deeper witch-read than I.

　　[The passage "ed in this letter, with certain alterations, became afterwards "The Witch," a dramatic sketch independent of "John Woodvil." By the phrase "without mutilation," Lamb possibly means to suggest that Southey should print this sketch and "The Dying Lover" in the Annual Anthology. That was not, however, done. "The Witch" was first printed in the Works, 1818.

　　Here should come a letter from Lamb to Robert Lloyd, postmarked November 20, 1798, not available for this edition. In this letter Lamb sends Lloyd the extract from "The Witch" that was sent to Southey.] The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 5