The End Of The Search

There's the dragon banner, says Old King Cole,     And the tiger banner, he cries.     Pantagruel breaks into a laugh     As the monarch dries his eyes. - The Search     "The tiger banyer, that is what you call much     Bad men in China, Amelica. The dragon banyer.     That is storm, leprosy, no rice, what you call     Nature. See! Nature!" - King Joy             *        *        *        *        *     Said Old King Cole I know the banner     Of dragon and tiger too,     But I would know the vagrant fellows     Who came to my castle with you.             *        *        *        *        *     And I would know why they rise in the morning     And never take bread or scrip;     And why they hasten over the mountain     In a sorrowed fellowship.             *        *        *        *        *     Then said Pantagruel: Heard you not?     One said he goes to Spain.     One said he goes to Elsinore,     And one to the Trojan plain.             *        *        *        *        *     Faith, if it be, said Old King Cole,     There is a word that's more:     Who is it goes to Spain and Troy?     And who to Elsinore?             *        *        *        *        *     One may be Quixote, said Pantagruel,     Out for the final joust.     One may be Hamlet, said Pantagruel     And one I think is Faust.             *        *        *        *        *     Whoever they be, said Pantagruel,     Why stand at the window and drool?     Let's out and catch the runaways     While the morning hour is cool.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel runs to the castle court,     And King Cole follows soon.     The cobblestones of the court yard ring     To the beat of their flying shoon.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel clutches the holy bottle,     And King Cole clutches his crown.     They throw the bolt of the castle gate     And race them through the town.             *        *        *        *        *     They cross the river and follow the road,     They run by the willow trees,     And the tiger banner and dragon banner     Wait for the morning breeze.             *        *        *        *        *     They clamber the wall and part the brambles,     And tear through thicket and thorn.     And a wild dove in an olive tree     Does mourn and mourn and mourn.             *        *        *        *        *     A green snake starts in the tangled grass,     And springs his length at their feet.     And a condor circles the purple sky     Looking for carrion meat.             *        *        *        *        *     And mad black flies are over their heads,     And a wolf looks out of his hole.     Great drops of sweat break out and run     From the brow of Old King Cole.             *        *        *        *        *     Said Old King Cole: A drink, my friend,     From the holy bottle, I pray.     My breath is short, my feet run blood,     My throat is baked as clay.             *        *        *        *        *     Anon they reach a mountain top,     And a mile below in the plain     Are the glitter of guns and a million men     Led by an idiot brain.             *        *        *        *        *     They come to a field of slush and flaw     Red with a blood red dye.     And a million faces fungus pale     Stare horribly at the sky.             *        *        *        *        *     They come to a cross where a rotting thing     Is slipping down from the nails.     And a raven perched on the eyeless skull     Opens his beak and rails:             *        *        *        *        *     "If thou be the Son of man come down,     Save us and thyself save."     Pantagruel flings a rock at the raven:     "How now blaspheming knave!"             *        *        *        *        *     "Come down and of my bottle drink,     And cease this scurvy rune."     But the raven flapped its wings and laughed     Loud as the water loon.             *        *        *        *        *     Said Old King Cole: A drink, my friend,     I faint, a drink in haste.     But when he drinks he pales and mutters:     "The wine has lost its taste."             *        *        *        *        *     "You have gone mad," said Pantagruel,     "In faith 'tis the same old wine."     Pantagruel drinks at the holy bottle     But the flavor is like sea brine.             *        *        *        *        *     And there on a rock is a cypress tree,     And a form with a muffled face.     "I know you, Death," said Pantagruel,     "But I ask of you no grace."             *        *        *        *        *     "Empty my bottle, sour my wine,     Bend me, you shall not break."     "Oh well," said Death, "one woe at a time     Before I come and take."             *        *        *        *        *     "You have lost everything in life but the bottle,     Youth and woman and friend.     Pass on and laugh for a little space yet     The laugh that has an end."             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel passes and looks around him     Brave and merry of soul.     But there on the ground lies a dead body,     The body of Old King Cole.             *        *        *        *        *     And a Voice said: Take the body up     And carry the body for me     Until you come to a silent water,     By the sands of a silent sea.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel takes the body up     And the dead fat bends him down.     He climbs the mountains, runs the valleys     With body, bottle and crown.             *        *        *        *        *     And the wastes are strewn with skulls,     And the desert is hot and cursed.     And a phantom shape of the holy bottle     Mocks his burning thirst.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel wanders seven days,     And seven nights wanders he.     And on the seventh night he rests him     By the sands of the silent sea.             *        *        *        *        *     And sees a new made fire on the shore,     And on the fire is a dish.     And by the fire two travelers sleep,     And two are broiling fish.             *        *        *        *        *     Don Quixote and Hamlet are sleeping,     And Faust is stirring the fire.     But the fourth is a stranger with a face     Starred with a great desire.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel hungers, Pantagruel thirsts,     Pantagruel falls to his knees.     He flings down the body of Old King Cole     As a man throws off disease.             *        *        *        *        *     And rolls his burden away and cries:     "Take and watch, if you will.     But as for me I go to France     My bottle to refill."             *        *        *        *        *     "And as for me I go to France     To fill this bottle up."     He felt at his side for the holy bottle,     And found it turned a cup.             *        *        *        *        *     And the stranger said: Behold our friend     Has brought my cup to me.     That is the cup whereof I drank     In the garden Gethsemane.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel hands the cup to Jesus     Who dips it in sea brine.     This is the water, says Jesus of Nazareth,     Whereof I make your wine.             *        *        *        *        *     And Faust takes the cup from Jesus of Nazareth,     And his lips wear a purple stain.     And Faust hands the cup to Pantagruel     With the dregs for him to drain.             *        *        *        *        *     Pantagruel drinks and falls into slumber,     And Jesus strokes his hair.     And Faust sings a song of Euphorion     To hide his heart's despair.             *        *        *        *        *     And Faust takes the hand of Jesus of Nazareth,     And they walk by the purple deep.     Says Jesus of Nazareth: "Some are watchers,     And some grow tired and sleep."