The Devil's Drive
The Devil's Drive (1812)
by Lord Byron
This on-line version of Lord Byron's The Devil's Drive (1812) was prepared as part of The Devil's Walk: A Hypertext Edition, edited by Donald H. Reiman and Neil Fraistat. Our text is from Ernest Hartley Coleridge, ed. The Works of Lord Byron. London: John Murray, 1904. Volume VII, 21-34.
1. |
The Devil returned to Hell by two, |
And he stayed at home till five; |
When he dined on some homicides done in ragošt, |
And a rebel or so in an Irish stew, |
And sausages made of a self-slain Jew, |
And bethought himself what next to do, |
"And," quoth he, "I'll take a drive. |
I walked in the morning, I'll ride to-night; |
In darkness my children take most delight, |
And I'll see how my favourites thrive. |
2. |
"And what shall I ride in?" quoth Lucifer, then‚ |
"If I followed my taste, indeed, |
I should mount in a waggon of wounded men, |
And smile to see them bleed. |
But these will be furnished again and again, |
And at present my purpose is speed; |
To see my manor as much as I may, |
And watch that no souls shall be poached away. |
3. |
"I have a state-coach at Carlton House, |
A chariot in Seymour-place; |
But they're lent to two friends, who make me amends |
By driving my favourite pace: |
And they handle their reins with such a grace, |
I have something for both at the end of the race. |
4. |
"So now for the earth to take my chance." |
Then up to the earth sprung he; |
And making a jump from Moscow to France, |
He stepped across the sea, |
And rested his hoof on a turnpike road, |
No very great way from a Bishop's abode. |
5. |
But first as he flew, I forgot to say, |
That he hovered a moment upon his way, |
To look upon Leipsic plain; |
And so sweet to his eye was its sulphury glare, |
And so soft to his ear was the cry of despair, |
That he perched on a mountain of slain; |
And he gazed with delight from its growing height, |
Nor often on earth had he seen such a sight, |
Nor his work done half as well: |
For the field ran so red with the blood of the dead, |
That it blushed like the waves of Hell! |
Then loudly, and wildly, and long laughed he: |
"Methinks they have little need here of me!" |
6. |
Long he looked down on the hosts of each clime, |
While the warriors hand to hand were‚ |
Gaul‚Austrian and Muscovite heroes sublime, |
And‚(Muse of Fitzgerald arise with a rhyme!) |
A quantity of Landwehr! |
Gladness was there, |
For the men of all might and the monarchs of earth, |
There met for the wolf and the worm to make mirth, |
And a feast for the fowls of the Air! |
7. |
But he turned aside and looked from the ridge |
Of hills along the river, |
And the best thing he saw was a broken bridge, |
Which a Corporal chose to shiver; |
Though an Emperor's taste was displeased with his haste, |
The Devil he thought it clever; |
And he laughed again in a lighter strain, |
O'er the torrent swoln and rainy, |
When he saw "on a fiery steed" Prince Pon, |
In taking care of Number One‚ |
Get drowned with a great many! |
8. |
But the softest note that soothed his ear |
Was the sound of a widow sighing; |
And the sweetest sight was the icy tear, |
Which Horror froze in the blue eye clear |
Of a maid by her lover lying‚ |
As round her fell her long fair hair, |
And she looked to Heaven with that frenzied air |
Which seemed to ask if a God were there! |
And stretched by the wall of a ruined hut, |
With its hollow cheek, and eyes half shut, |
A child of Famine dying: |
And the carnage begun, when resistance is done, |
And the fall of the vainly flying! |
9. |
Then he gazed on a town by besiegers taken, |
Nor cared he who were winning; |
But he saw an old maid, for years forsaken, |
Get up and leave her spinning; |
And she looked in her glass, and to one that did pass, |
She said‚"pray are the rapes beginning?" |
10. |
But the Devil has reached our cliffs so white, |
And what did he there, I pray? |
If his eyes were good, he but saw by night |
What we see every day; |
But he made a tour and kept a journal |
Of all the wondrous sights nocturnal, |
And he sold it in shares to the Menof the Row, |
Who bid pretty well‚but they cheated him, though! |
11. |
The Devil first saw, as he thought, the Mail, |
Its coachman and his coat; |
So instead of a pistol he cocked his tail, |
And seized him by the throat; |
"Aha!" quoth he, "what have we here? |
'T is a new barouche, and an ancient peer!" |
12. |
So he sat him on his box again, |
And bade him have no fear, |
But be true to his club, and staunch to his rein, |
His brothel and his beer; |
"Next to seeing a Lord at the Council board, |
I would rather see him here." |
13. |
Satan hired a horse and gig |
With promises to pay; |
And he pawned his horns for a spruce new wig, |
To redeem as he came away: |
And he whistled some tune, a waltz or a jig, |
And drove off at the close of day. |
14. |
The first place he stopped at‚he heard the Psalm |
That rung from a Methodist Chapel: |
"'T is the best sound I've heard," quoth he, "since my palm |
Presented Eve her apple! |
When Faith is all, 't is an excellent sign, |
That the Works and Workmen both are mine." |
15. |
He passed Tommy Tyrwhitt, that standing jest, |
To princely wit a Martyr: |
But the last joke of all was by far the best, |
When he sailed away with "the Garter"! |
"And"‚quoth Satan‚"this Embassy's worthy my sight, |
Should I see nothing else to amuse me to night. |
With no one to bear it, but Thomas ý Tyrwhitt, |
This ribband belongs to an 'Order of Merit'!" |
16. |
He stopped at an Inn and stepped within |
The Bar and read the "Times;" |
And never such a treat, as‚the epistle of one "Vetus," |
Had he found save in downright crimes: |
"Though I doubt if this drivelling encomiast of War |
Ever saw a field fought, or felt a scar, |
Yet his fame shall go farther than he can guess, |
For I'll keep him a place in my hottest Press; |
And his works shall be bound in Morocco d'Enfer, |
And lettered behind with his Nom de Guerre." |
17. |
The Devil gat next to Westminster, |
And he turned to "the room" of the Commons; |
But he heard as he purposed to enter in there, |
That "the Lords" had received a summons; |
And he thought, as "a quondam Aristocrat," |
He might peep at the Peers, though to hear them were flat; |
And he walked up the House so like one of his own, |
That they say that he stood pretty near the throne. |
18. |
He saw the Lord Liverpool seemingly wise, |
The Lord Westmoreland certainly silly, |
And Jockey of Norfolk‚a man of some size |
And Chatham, so like his friend Billy; |
And he saw the tears in Lord Eldon's eyes, |
Because the Catholics would not rise, |
In spite of his prayers and his prophecies; |
And he heard‚which set Satan himself a staring‚ |
A certain Chief Justice say something like swearing |
And the Devil was shocked‚and quoth he,"I must go, |
For I find we have much better manners below. |
If thus he harangues when he passes my border, |
I shall hint to friend Moloch to call him to order." |
19. |
Then the Devil went down to the humbler House, |
Where he readily found his way |
As natural to him as its hole to a Mouse, |
He had been there many a day; |
And many a vote and soul and job he |
Had bid for and carried away from the Lobby: |
But there now was a "call" and accomplished debaters |
Appeared in the glory of hats, boots and gaiters‚ |
Some paid rather more‚but all worse dressed than Waiters! |
20. |
There was Canning for War, and Whitbread for peace, |
And others as suited their fancies; |
But all were agreed that our debts should increase |
Excepting the Demagogue Francis. |
That rogue! how could Westminster chuse him again |
To leaven the virtue of these honest men! |
But the Devil remained till the Break of Day |
Blushed upon Sleep and Lord Castlereagh: |
Then up half the house got, and Satan got up |
With the drowsy to snore‚or the hungry to sup:‚ |
But so torpid the power of some speakers, 't is said, |
That they sent even him to his brimstone bed. |
21. |
He had seen George Rose‚but George was grown dumb, |
And only lied in thought! |
And the Devil has all the pleasure to come |
Of hearing him talk as he ought. |
With the falsest of tongues, the sincerest of men‚ |
His veracity were but deceit‚ |
And Nature must first have unmade him again, |
Ere his breast or his face, or his tongue, or his pen, |
Conceived‚uttered‚looked‚or wrote down letters ten, |
Which Truth would acknowledge complete. |
22 |
Satan next took the army list in hand, |
Where he found a new "Field Marshal;" |
And when he saw this high command |
Conferred on his Highness of Cumberland, |
"Oh! were I prone to cavil‚or were I not the Devil, |
I should say this was somewhat partial; |
Since the only wounds that this Warrior gat, |
Were from God knows whom‚and the Devil knows what!" |
23. |
He then popped his head in a royal Ball, |
And saw all the Haram so hoary; |
And who there besides but Corinna de StaÎl! |
Turned Methodist and Tory! |
"Aye‚Aye"‚quoth he‚"'tis the way with them all, |
When Wits grow tired of Glory: |
But thanks to the weakness, that thus could pervert her, |
Since the dearest of prizes to me 's a deserter: |
Mem [sic] ‚whenever a sudden conversion I want, |
To send to the school of Philosopher Kant; |
And whenever I need a critic who can gloss over |
All faults‚to send for Mackintosh to write up the Philosopher." |
24. |
The Devil waxed faint at the sight of this Saint, |
And he thought himself of eating; |
And began to cram from a plate of ham |
Wherewith a Page was retreating‚ |
Having nothing else to do (for "the friends" each so near |
Had sold all their souls long before), |
As he swallowed down the bacon he wished himself a Jew |
For the sake of another crime more: |
For Sinning itself is but half a recreation, |
Unless it ensures most infallible Damnation. |
25. |
But he turned him about, for he heard a sound |
Which even his ear found faults in; |
For whirling above‚underneath‚and around‚ |
Were his fairest Disciples Waltzing! |
And quoth he‚"though this be‚the premier pas to me, |
Against it I would warn all‚ |
Should I introduce these revels among my younger devils, |
They would all turn perfectly carnal: |
And though fond of the flesh‚yet I never could bear it |
Should quite in my kingdom get the upper hand of Spirit." |
26. |
The Devil (but 't was over) had been vastly glad |
To see the new Drury Lane, |
And yet he might have been rather mad |
To see it rebuilt in vain; |
And had he beheld their "Nourjahad," |
Would never have gone again: |
And Satan had taken it much amiss, |
They should fasten such a piece on a friend of his‚ |
Though he knew that his works were somewhat sad, |
He never had found them quite so bad: |
For this was "the book" which, of yore, Job, sorely smitten, |
Said, "Oh that mine enemy, mine enemy had written"! |
27. |
Then he found sixty scribblers in separate cells, |
And marvelled what they were doing, |
For they looked like little fiends in their own little hells, |
Damnation for others brewing‚ |
Though their paper seemed to shrink, from the heat of their ink, |
They were only coolly reviewing! |
And as one of them wrote down the pronoun "We," |
"That Plural"‚says Satan‚"meanshim and me, |
With the Editor added to make up the three |
Of an Athanasian Trinity, |
And render the believers in our 'Articles' sensible, |
How many must combine to form one Incomprehensible"! |