The Impresario (part ten)
The Impresario
Part Ten
The keeper of his purse departs
A servile gratitude for this
answering of an urgent summons
The impresario feels
And feels enfolded in a fallen angel’s wings
Bearing the stench of cursedness; a humble plea
To all he meets for small respect. Merci.
He means to pay them each five coins of gold
Adieu, madame, adieu.
Mes pauvres, may God defend you
Scattered to the four winds of the world.
“Tortu, I will not tarry
On the next ship leaving harbor I must be—”
On the stable wall of a desolate rogues’ retreat
Tortu in an agony of sorrow
Marks a letter N and from his throat
His master hears his first word spoken
“No!”
And Pierre, whom the impresario had told,
“Walk Regalus to the town and beg an audience
A convent there is dedicated to Sainte-Marguerite
The noble lady abbess, she will be so good…”
Comes back. “No, my friend, she will not be commanded.”
He holds the way against a probing arm
Another snakes about his waist, but unperturbed
Pierre tells his tale. “Your purse of gold is lighter now by half.
Discount the cost of passing through the gate
For I was stayed without, but to the warden’s house
The pious dame did order wine and bread
To salve my sinner’s conscience I must lay
Three coins beside my plate, the dowry paid
Then whistling on my way, while in my heart
Reciting ten Aves—Ah! I swear it—thus far gone
In thought I had not guessed my peril
A hand did seize me by the collar…”
Impresario
Part Eleven
(2017, Stephanie Foster)