MARCO TALKS WITH HIS NEIGHBORS
| The Time: 1295 A.D. | The Speaker: Marco Polo. |
| The Place: Venice, the Rialto. | The Chorus: Citizens of Venice. |
I FARED,” said Marco, “as far as one may——
From Astrakhan to the ports of Cathay,
And sailed two years on the Pitch Dark Sea;
And something I learned of the ways of man.
There is a place that they call Japan,
And Russia lies where the north winds be;
The plain of Lop is haunted by dragons;
Dark are the damsels and fierce the flagons
In the Thousand Islands of Spicery.”
“Far are these lands and fair is their sheen,
But tell us, Polo, what have you seen?”
“I saw,” said Marco, “the pagans at masses
And Tibetan dogs the size of asses,
And oil from the ground, and black stones, blazing.
I saw pink pearls from an unknown strand,
And ten-pound peaches of China-land,
And bales of silk that were past appraising.
I saw the Malabar pepper farmers
And cannibal sharks subdued by charmers,
But the grunting ox was most amazing.”
“Much have you seen where the wild capes curve,
But tell us, Polo, whom did you serve?”
“I served,” said Marco, “the Khan of Khans.
His edict runs with the caravans
As far as the east is from the west.
The Turk and the Hindu hold his charters,
He sways Cathaians, Persians, and Tartars,
Yet Kublai welcomes the stranger guest.
His deeds are writ upon purple pages,
A shepherd king but a sage of sages,
And his thousand damsels are Asia’s best.”
“Him must a thousand matters perplex,
But, Polo, speak yet more of the sex.”
“The men of Gobi,” said Marco, “require
Their dames to sit by the stranger’s fire,
And make his favor the tribal boast.
Frail are the women in Pin-yang-fu,
And delicate quin-sai wenches woo
Ambassadors from the Pepper Coast.
Though maids with feet as swift as the wind
May dance, all bare, for the gods of Ind,
The women of Persia please the most.”
“Whimsical, Marco, your travel word.
Is there aught else that you saw or heard?”
“I heard,” said Marco, “but do not know,
That Tartar shamans summon the snow,
And suns shine not for the Samoyed.
In southern countries its fabled horn
Means less than its tongue to the unicorn,
Which licks its victims until they are dead.
Here is a text for songs or sermons:
When babes are born to the female Burmans,
Their foolish husbands hie them to bed.”
Rose, then, a shout from a hundred lips:
“Marco, the tar of a thousand trips,
Marco the man of a million quips,
Marco, Marco, Milioni!”
And they who would hold the East in fee,
Men of the pitiful midland sea,
Nobles and commons, laughed shamelessly.
“Which the catcher, and who the coney?
What I have seen is truly averred,
But what I have heard is—what I have heard!”
Thus to himself, with a secret mirth,
The only man who had seen the earth.