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Suddenly his ears he raised,
And in strangest wise they twitched!
Then from up his couch he sprang Trembling, bellowing with joy: "Children! do you hear that voice!
"Are not those the dulcet tones Of your mother? Do I not My dear Mumma's grumbles know?-- Mumma! Mumma! precious mate!"
Like a madman with these words From the cave rushed Atta Troll Swift to his destruction--oh!
To his ruin straight he plunged.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CANTO XXIV
In the Vale of Roncesvalles, On that very spot where erst Charlemagne's great nephew fell, Gasping forth his warrior soul,
Fell and perished Atta Troll, Fell through ambush, even as he Whom that Judas of the Knights, Ganelon of Mainz, betrayed.
Oh! that n.o.blest trait in bears-- Conjugal affection--love-- Formed a pitfall which Uraka In her evil craft prepared.
For so truly mimicked she Coal-black Mumma's tender growls, That poor Atta Troll was lured From the safety of his lair.
On desire's wings he ran Through the valley, halting oft By a rock with tender sniff, Thinking Mumma there lay hid.
There Lascaro lay, alas, With his rifle. Swift he shot Through that gladsome heart a ball, And a crimson stream welled forth.
Twice or thrice he shakes his head To and fro, at last he sinks Groaning, seized with ghastly shudders;-- "Mumma!" is his final sob!
Thus our n.o.ble hero fell-- Perished thus. Immortal he Yet shall live in strains of bards, Resurrected after death.
He shall rise again in song, And his wide renown shall stalk In this blunt trochaic verse O'er the round and living Earth.
In Valhalla's Hall a shaft Shall King Ludwig build for him,-- In Bavarian lapidary Style these words be there inscribed:
ATTA TROLL, REFORMER, PURE, PIOUS: HUSBAND WARM AND TRUE, BY THE ZEIT-GEIST LED ASTRAY-- WOOD-ENGENDERED SANS-CULOTTE:
DANCING BADLY: YET IDEALS BEARING IN HIS s.h.a.gGY BREAST: OFTTIMES STINKING VERY STRONGLY, TALENT NONE: BUT CHARACTER.
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CANTO XXV
Three-and-thirty wrinkled dames, Wearing on their heads their Basque Scarlet hoods of ancient style, Stood beside the village gate.
One of them, like Deborah, Beat the tambourine and danced While she sang a hymn in praise Of the slayer of the bear.
Four strong men in triumph bore Slaughtered Atta, who erect In his wicker litter sat Like some patient at a spa.
To the rear, like relatives Of the dead, Lascaro came With Uraka, who abashed, Nodded to the right and left.
Then the town-clerk at the hall Spoke as the procession came To a halt. Of many things Spoke that dapper little man.
As, for instance, of the rise Of the navy, of the Press, Of the sugar-beet debates, And that hydra, party strife.
All the feats of Louis Philippe Vaunted he unto the skies,-- Of Lascaro then he spoke And his great heroic deed.
"Thou Lascaro!" cried the clerk, As he mopped his streaming brow With his bright tri-coloured sash-- "Thou Lascaro! thou that hast
"Freed Hispania and France From that monster Atta Troll, By both lands shalt be acclaimed the Pyreneean Lafayette!"
When Lascaro in official Wise thus heard himself announced As a hero, then he smiled In his beard and blushed for joy.
And in stammering syllables And in broken phrases he Stuttered forth his grat.i.tude For the honour shown to him.
Wonder-smitten then stood all At the unexpected sight, And in low and timid tones Thus the ancient women spoke:
"Did you hear Lascaro laugh?
Did you see Lascaro blush?
Did you hear Lascaro speak?
He the witch's perished son!"
On that very day they flayed Atta Troll. At auction they Sold his hide. A furrier bid Just an even hundred francs.
And the furrier decked the skin Handsomely, and mounted it All on scarlet. For this work He demanded twice the cost.
From a third hand Juliet Then received it. Now it lies As a rug before her bed In the city by the Seine.
Oh, how many nights I've stood Barefoot on the earthly husk Of my hero great and true, On the hide of Atta Troll!
Then by sorrow deeply touched Would I think of Schiller's words: "That which song would make eternal First must perish from the Earth."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CANTO XXVI
What of Mumma? Mumma, ah!
