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◈ The Eve of St. Agnes (성녀 아그네스 축제 전야제) ◈

해설본문  존 키츠
목 차   [숨기기]
 1. I.
 2. II.
 3. III.
 4. IV.
 5. V.
 6. VI.
 7. VII.
 8. VIII.
 9. IX.
 10. X.
 11. XI.
 12. XII.
 13. XIII.
 14. XIV.
 15. XV.
 16. XVI.
 17. XVII.
 18. XVIII.
 19. XIX.
 20. XX.
 21. XXI.
 22. XXII.
 23. XXIII.
 24. XXIV.
 25. XXV.
 26. XXVI.
 27. XXVII.
 28. XXVIII.
 29. XXIX.
 30. XXX.
 31. XXXI.
 32. XXXII.
 33. XXXIII.
 34. XXXIV.
 35. XXXV.
 36. XXXVI.
 37. XXXVII.
 38. XXXVIII.
 39. XXXIX.
 40. XL.
 41. XLI.
 42. XLII.

1. I.

0
St. Agnes' EveAh, bitter chill it was!
1
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
2
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
3
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
4
Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told
5
His rosary, and while his frosted breath,
6
Like pious incense from a censer old,
7
Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death,
8
Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith.
 

2. II.

0
His prayer he saith, this patient, holy man;
1
Then takes his lamp, and riseth from his knees,
2
And back returneth, meagre, barefoot, wan,
3
Along the chapel aisle by slow degrees:
4
The sculptur'd dead, on each side, seem to freeze,
5
Emprison'd in black, purgatorial rails:
6
Knights, ladies, praying in dumb orat'ries,
7
He passeth by; and his weak spirit fails
8
To think how they may ache in icy hoods and mails.
 

3. III.

0
Northward he turneth through a little door,
1
And scarce three steps, ere Music's golden tongue
2
Flatter'd to tears this aged man and poor;
3
But noalready had his deathbell rung;
4
The joys of all his life were said and sung:
5
His was harsh penance on St. Agnes' Eve:
6
Another way he went, and soon among
7
Rough ashes sat he for his soul's reprieve,
8
And all night kept awake, for sinners' sake to grieve.
 

4. IV.

0
That ancient Beadsman heard the prelude soft;
1
And so it chanc'd, for many a door was wide,
2
From hurry to and fro. Soon, up aloft,
3
The silver, snarling trumpets 'gan to chide:
4
The level chambers, ready with their pride,
5
Were glowing to receive a thousand guests:
6
The carved angels, ever eager-eyed,
7
Star'd, where upon their heads the cornice rests,
8
With hair blown back, and wings put cross-wise on their breasts.
 

5. V.

0
At length burst in the argent revelry,
1
With plume, tiara, and all rich array,
2
Numerous as shadows haunting fairily
3
The brain, new stuff'd, in youth, with triumphs gay
4
Of old romance. These let us wish away,
5
And turn, sole-thoughted, to one Lady there,
6
Whose heart had brooded, all that wintry day,
7
On love, and wing'd St. Agnes' saintly care,
8
As she had heard old dames full many times declare.
 

6. VI.

0
They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,
1
Young virgins might have visions of delight,
2
And soft adorings from their loves receive
3
Upon the honey'd middle of the night,
4
If ceremonies due they did aright;
5
As, supperless to bed they must retire,
6
And couch supine their beauties, lily white;
7
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
8
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
 

7. VII.

0
Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline:
1
The music, yearning like a God in pain,
2
She scarcely heard: her maiden eyes divine,
3
Fix'd on the floor, saw many a sweeping train
4
Pass byshe heeded not at all: in vain
5
Came many a tiptoe, amorous cavalier,
6
And back retir'd; not cool'd by high disdain,
7
But she saw not: her heart was otherwhere:
8
She sigh'd for Agnes' dreams, the sweetest of the year.
 

8. VIII.

0
She danc'd along with vague, regardless eyes,
1
Anxious her lips, her breathing quick and short:
2
The hallow'd hour was near at hand: she sighs
3
Amid the timbrels, and the throng'd resort
4
Of whisperers in anger, or in sport;
5
'Mid looks of love, defiance, hate, and scorn,
6
Hoodwink'd with faery fancy; all amort,
7
Save to St. Agnes and her lambs unshorn,
8
And all the bliss to be before to-morrow morn.
 

9. IX.

0
So, purposing each moment to retire,
1
She linger'd still. Meantime, across the moors,
2
Had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire
3
For Madeline. Beside the portal doors,
4
Buttress'd from moonlight, stands he, and implores
5
All saints to give him sight of Madeline,
6
But for one moment in the tedious hours,
7
That he might gaze and worship all unseen;
8
Perchance speak, kneel, touch, kissin sooth such things have been.
 

10. X.

0
He ventures in: let no buzz'd whisper tell:
1
All eyes be muffled, or a hundred swords
2
Will storm his heart, Love's fev'rous citadel:
3
For him, those chambers held barbarian hordes,
4
Hyena foemen, and hot-blooded lords,
5
Whose very dogs would execrations howl
6
Against his lineage: not one breast affords
7
Him any mercy, in that mansion foul,
8
Save one old beldame, weak in body and in soul.
 

11. XI.

0
Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came,
1
Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand,
2
To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame,
3
Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond
4
The sound of merriment and chorus bland:
5
He startled her; but soon she knew his face,
6
And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand,
7
Saying, "Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from this place;
8
They are all here to-night, the whole blood-thirsty race!"
 

12. XII.

0
"Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish Hildebrand;
1
He had a fever late, and in the fit
2
He cursed thee and thine, both house and land:
3
Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit
4
More tame for his gray hairsAlas me! flit!
5
Flit like a ghost away."—"Ah, Gossip dear,
6
We're safe enough; here in this arm-chair sit,
7
And tell me how"—"Good Saints! not here, not here;
8
Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy bier."
 

13. XIII.

0
He follow'd through a lowly arched way,
1
Brushing the cobwebs with his lofty plume,
2
And as she mutter'd "Well-a—well-a-day!"
3
He found him in a little moonlight room,
4
Pale, lattic'd, chill, and silent as a tomb.
5
"Now tell me where is Madeline," said he,
6
"O tell me, Angela, by the holy loom
7
Which none but secret sisterhood may see,
8
When they St. Agnes' wool are weaving piously."
 

14. XIV.

0
"St. Agnes! Ah! it is St. Agnes' Eve
1
Yet men will murder upon holy days:
2
Thou must hold water in a witch's sieve,
3
And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays,
4
To venture so: it fills me with amaze
5
To see thee, Porphyro!—St. Agnes' Eve!
6
God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays
7
This very night: good angels her deceive!
8
But let me laugh awhile, I've mickle time to grieve."
 

15. XV.

0
Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon,
1
While Porphyro upon her face doth look,
2
Like puzzled urchin on an aged crone
3
Who keepeth clos'd a wond'rous riddle-book,
4
As spectacled she sits in chimney nook.
5
But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told
6
His lady's purpose; and he scarce could brook
7
Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold
8
And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.
 

16. XVI.

0
Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,
1
Flushing his brow, and in his pained heart
2
Made purple riot: then doth he propose
3
A stratagem, that makes the beldame start:
4
"A cruel man and impious thou art:
5
Sweet lady, let her pray, and sleep, and dream
6
Alone with her good angels, far apart
7
From wicked men like thee. Go, go!—I deem
8
Thou canst not surely be the same that thou didst seem."
 

17. XVII.

0
"I will not harm her, by all saints I swear,"
1
Quoth Porphyro: "O may I ne'er find grace
2
When my weak voice shall whisper its last prayer,
3
If one of her soft ringlets I displace,
4
Or look with ruffian passion in her face:
5
Good Angela, believe me by these tears;
6
Or I will, even in a moment's space,
7
Awake, with horrid shout, my foemen's ears,
8
And beard them, though they be more fang'd than wolves and bears."
 

18. XVIII.

0
"Ah! why wilt thou affright a feeble soul?
1
A poor, weak, palsy-stricken, churchyard thing,
2
Whose passing-bell may ere the midnight toll;
3
Whose prayers for thee, each morn and evening,
4
Were never miss'd."—Thus plaining, doth she bring
5
A gentler speech from burning Porphyro;
6
So woful, and of such deep sorrowing,
7
That Angela gives promise she will do
8
Whatever he shall wish, betide her weal or woe.
 

19. XIX.

0
Which was, to lead him, in close secrecy,
1
Even to Madeline's chamber, and there hide
2
Him in a closet, of such privacy
3
That he might see her beauty unespied,
4
And win perhaps that night a peerless bride,
5
While legion'd fairies pac'd the coverlet,
6
And pale enchantment held her sleepy-eyed.
7
Never on such a night have lovers met,
8
Since Merlin paid his Demon all the monstrous debt.
 

20. XX.

0
"It shall be as thou wishest," said the Dame:
1
"All cates and dainties shall be stored there
2
Quickly on this feast-night: by the tambour frame
3
Her own lute thou wilt see: no time to spare,
4
For I am slow and feeble, and scarce dare
5
On such a catering trust my dizzy head.
6
Wait here, my child, with patience; kneel in prayer
7
The while: Ah! thou must needs the lady wed,
8
Or may I never leave my grave among the dead."
 

21. XXI.

0
So saying, she hobbled off with busy fear.
1
The lover's endless minutes slowly pass'd;
2
The dame return'd, and whisper'd in his ear
3
To follow her; with aged eyes aghast
4
From fright of dim espial. Safe at last,
5
Through many a dusky gallery, they gain
6
The maiden's chamber, silken, hush'd, and chaste;
7
Where Porphyro took covert, pleas'd amain.
8
His poor guide hurried back with agues in her brain.
 

22. XXII.

0
Her falt'ring hand upon the balustrade,
1
Old Angela was feeling for the stair,
2
When Madeline, St. Agnes' charmed maid,
3
Rose, like a mission'd spirit, unaware:
4
With silver taper's light, and pious care,
5
She turn'd, and down the aged gossip led
6
To a safe level matting. Now prepare,
7
Young Porphyro, for gazing on that bed;
8
She comes, she comes again, like ring-dove fray'd and fled.
 

23. XXIII.

0
Out went the taper as she hurried in;
1
Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died:
2
She clos'd the door, she panted, all akin
3
To spirits of the air, and visions wide:
4
No uttered syllable, or, woe betide!
5
But to her heart, her heart was voluble,
6
Paining with eloquence her balmy side;
7
As though a tongueless nightingale should swell
8
Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.
 

24. XXIV.

0
A casement high and triple-arch'd there was,
1
All garlanded with carven imag'ries
2
Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass,
3
And diamonded with panes of quaint device,
4
Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes,
5
As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings;
6
And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries,
7
And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings,
8
A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
 

25. XXV.

0
Full on this casement shone the wintry moon,
1
And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast,
2
As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon;
3
Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest,
4
And on her silver cross soft amethyst,
5
And on her hair a glory, like a saint:
6
She seem'd a splendid angel, newly drest,
7
Save wings, for heaven:—Porphyro grew faint:
8
She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
 

26. XXVI.

0
Anon his heart revives: her vespers done,
1
Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees;
2
Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one;
3
Loosens her fragrant boddice; by degrees
4
Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees:
5
Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed,
6
Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees,
7
In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed,
8
But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
 

27. XXVII.

0
Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest,
1
In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex'd she lay,
2
Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd
3
Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away;
4
Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day;
5
Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain;
6
Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray;
7
Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain,
8
As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
 

28. XXVIII.

0
Stol'n to this paradise, and so entranced,
1
Porphyro gazed upon her empty dress,
2
And listen'd to her breathing, if it chanced
3
To wake into a slumberous tenderness;
4
Which when he heard, that minute did he bless,
5
And breath'd himself: then from the closet crept,
6
Noiseless as fear in a wide wilderness,
7
And over the hush'd carpet, silent, stept,
8
And 'tween the curtains peep'd, where, lo!—how fast she slept.
 

29. XXIX.

0
Then by the bed-side, where the faded moon
1
Made a dim, silver twilight, soft he set
2
A table, and, half anguish'd, threw thereon
3
A cloth of woven crimson, gold, and jet:—
4
O for some drowsy Morphean amulet!
5
The boisterous, midnight, festive clarion,
6
The kettle-drum, and far-heard clarionet,
7
Affray his ears, though but in dying tone:—
8
The hall door shuts again, and all the noise is gone.
 

30. XXX.

0
And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
1
In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender'd,
2
While he from forth the closet brought a heap
3
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd
4
With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
5
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;
6
Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd
7
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
8
From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
 

31. XXXI.

0
These delicates he heap'd with glowing hand
1
On golden dishes and in baskets bright
2
Of wreathed silver: sumptuous they stand
3
In the retired quiet of the night,
4
Filling the chilly room with perfume light.—
5
"And now, my love, my seraph fair, awake!
6
Thou art my heaven, and I thine eremite:
7
Open thine eyes, for meek St. Agnes' sake,
8
Or I shall drowse beside thee, so my soul doth ache."
 

32. XXXII.

0
Thus whispering, his warm, unnerved arm
1
Sank in her pillow. Shaded was her dream
2
By the dusk curtains:—'twas a midnight charm
3
Impossible to melt as iced stream:
4
The lustrous salvers in the moonlight gleam;
5
Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies:
6
It seem'd he never, never could redeem
7
From such a stedfast spell his lady's eyes;
8
So mus'd awhile, entoil'd in woofed phantasies.
 

33. XXXIII.

0
Awakening up, he took her hollow lute,—
1
Tumultuous,—and, in chords that tenderest be,
2
He play'd an ancient ditty, long since mute,
3
In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans mercy:"
4
Close to her ear touching the melody;—
5
Wherewith disturb'd, she utter'd a soft moan:
6
He ceasedshe panted quickand suddenly
7
Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone:
8
Upon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stone.
 

34. XXXIV.

0
Her eyes were open, but she still beheld,
1
Now wide awake, the vision of her sleep:
2
There was a painful change, that nigh expell'd
3
The blisses of her dream so pure and deep
4
At which fair Madeline began to weep,
5
And moan forth witless words with many a sigh;
6
While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep;
7
Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye,
8
Fearing to move or speak, she look'd so dreamingly.
 

35. XXXV.

0
"Ah, Porphyro!" said she, "but even now
1
Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear,
2
Made tuneable with every sweetest vow;
3
And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear:
4
How chang'd thou art! how pallid, chill, and drear!
5
Give me that voice again, my Porphyro,
6
Those looks immortal, those complainings dear!
7
Oh leave me not in this eternal woe,
8
For if thou diest, my Love, I know not where to go."
 

36. XXXVI.

0
Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far
1
At these voluptuous accents, he arose,
2
Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star
3
Seen mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose
4
Into her dream he melted, as the rose
5
Blendeth its odour with the violet,—
6
Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows
7
Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet
8
Against the window-panes; St. Agnes' moon hath set.
 

37. XXXVII.

0
'Tis dark: quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet:
1
"This is no dream, my bride, my Madeline!"
2
'Tis dark: the iced gusts still rave and beat:
3
"No dream, alas! alas! and woe is mine!
4
Porphyro will leave me here to fade and pine.—
5
Cruel! what traitor could thee hither bring?
6
I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine
7
Though thou forsakest a deceived thing;—
8
A dove forlorn and lost with sick unpruned wing."
 

38. XXXVIII.

0
"My Madeline! sweet dreamer! lovely bride!
1
Say, may I be for aye thy vassal blest?
2
Thy beauty's shield, heart-shap'd and vermeil dyed?
3
Ah, silver shrine, here will I take my rest
4
After so many hours of toil and quest,
5
A famish'd pilgrim,—saved by miracle.
6
Though I have found, I will not rob thy nest
7
Saving of thy sweet self; if thou think'st well
8
To trust, fair Madeline, to no rude infidel."
 

39. XXXIX.

0
"Hark! 'tis an elfin-storm from faery land,
1
Of haggard seeming, but a boon indeed:
2
Arisearise! the morning is at hand;—
3
The bloated wassaillers will never heed:—
4
Let us away, my love, with happy speed;
5
There are no ears to hear, or eyes to see,—
6
Drown'd all in Rhenish and the sleepy mead:
7
Awake! arise! my love, and fearless be,
8
For o'er the southern moors I have a home for thee."
 

40. XL.

0
She hurried at his words, beset with fears,
1
For there were sleeping dragons all around,
2
At glaring watch, perhaps, with ready spears
3
Down the wide stairs a darkling way they found.—
4
In all the house was heard no human sound.
5
A chain-droop'd lamp was flickering by each door;
6
The arras, rich with horseman, hawk, and hound,
7
Flutter'd in the besieging wind's uproar;
8
And the long carpets rose along the gusty floor.
 

41. XLI.

0
They glide, like phantoms, into the wide hall;
1
Like phantoms, to the iron porch, they glide;
2
Where lay the Porter, in uneasy sprawl,
3
With a huge empty flaggon by his side:
4
The wakeful bloodhound rose, and shook his hide,
5
But his sagacious eye an inmate owns:
6
By one, and one, the bolts full easy slide:—
7
The chains lie silent on the footworn stones;—
8
The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans.
 

42. XLII.

0
And they are gone: ay, ages long ago
1
These lovers fled away into the storm.
2
That night the Baron dreamt of many a woe,
3
And all his warrior-guests, with shade and form
4
Of witch, and demon, and large coffin-worm,
5
Were long be-nightmar'd. Angela the old
6
Died palsy-twitch'd, with meagre face deform;
7
The Beadsman, after thousand aves told,
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◈ The Eve of St. Agnes (성녀 아그네스 축제 전야제) ◈

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페이지 최종 수정일: 2004년 1월 1일