The Pilgrim Road 40,41,42,43 Poem by David McLansky

Preparing the Witness (40)

The Deacon spoke to the waif, 

'In body we know that you are chaste, 

But admit that you've had sinful thoughts

With vengeful feelings you are wroth, 

And if you do you'll soon discover

That we'll unite you with your mother, 

Mother and child will be restored

You cannot cut the sylvan cord; 

When I ask you, were you disturbed

By a neighbor or his herd, 

If you answer quickly 'yes, '

It will bring such happiness; 

If you say you married Satan

Without the least bit hesitation, 

Why that very afternoon, 

You'll be back in bed in your own room.'

'But that would be a sinful lie, '

And here the girl began to cry.



The Trial (41)

And so the Pilgrim and the child

Stood co-defendants at the trial, 

He waved to her which made her smile

A breech of courtly Canon style; 

The Deacon rose and looked with scorn

At the defendants and he warned

That people of surrounding lands

Will be alarmed at what was planned; 

'Be not misled by her girlish look, 

Innocence can easily be mistook

For what looks to you as a child

Is a demon laughing all the while; 

She was seen drawing pentagrams, 

With the blood of fresh-killed lambs

She dripped gore at the five points

Which mocks the wounds that we anoint; 

In the darkest time of night

She was observed by candle light

To utter chants and wave her arms

(The Court room stirred in some alarm) 

Pronouncing Latin in reverse

To cast her spells and lay her curse; 

Then from the star scratched dirty floor

Came a clank from a trap door

And rose a yellow smoking glow

That arced red sparks in its flow, 

Which blazed with light and sudden heat, 

Then rose the beast with cloven feet; 




Brown and dark with straggled hair

A bull like face, a red-eyed stare, 

His snarling teeth, bright fangs from Hell, 

And from the mist a sulfurous smell; 

He growled, and stretched, and finally roared, 

Then bent the child upon the floor

And there he sated his foul lust, 

And as he rammed the child did thrust; 

Yes, good Christians, be not deceived, 

She's not the innocent you perceive, 

This is the mate of Anti-Christ, 

Who spawned with him until first light.'

Stunned and silent sat the Court, 

The Deacon handed up his report; 

The Judge looked sullen and quite grave, 

A woman howled and several prayed; 

Until the Pilgrim rose at last, 

And then gave off a monstrous laugh, 

'Who is this witness so well versed

That he knows Latin in reverse! '




Examining the Witness (42)

The laughter echoed down the pews, 

A raucous laugh as in the stews, 

For this audience knew well the witness, 

Their laughter registered his fitness; 

He was the farmer who's land adjoined, 

The child's parents, now purloined, 

For if the charge of witchcraft stuck, 

The Court's enjoinder would be struck; 

He was a wild and burly man, 

Huge of girth, his hands like hams

Of florid face, protruding teeth, 

A vulgar man of intemperate speech; 

As Farmer Brown was sworn in, 

He cursed the girl and all her kin, 

The Deacon smiled at this report

And reminded him he was in Court; 

'She's a witch, the Judas pig, 

I saw her dance the Devil's jig, 

I heard her curse a cross of sheaves, 

Held upside down, by Your Lord's leave.

I heard her mumble foreign words

Words of the Mass, mixed up, disturbed; 

I saw her mix mare's milk with wine

And mark my cattle seven times.' 

The Deacon smiled and asked no more, 

He motioned the Pilgrim to take the floor; 

The farmer bellowed and stuck out his chin, 

'I'll have no truck with the likes of him! 




He's of the cohort of the beast! 

A Devil worshipper, at the very least.'

The Pilgrim smiled and bowed his head, 

'Do you see horns upon my head? 

Perhaps I should remove my hose

So you can see my heel and toes? 

But of this, really, no matter

I see the golden calf would grow fatter, 

I'm informed that you're a Latin scholar, 

A Docent at the collegium Colmar

'Qui invidet minor est*

I'm surely you're likely to attest.

At this the farmer began to sweat, 

He wrung his hands and looked upset, 

He began to shout, spewing phlegm

The Pilgrim said, compesce mentem**

The Deacon rose, 'This is absurd, 

It doesn't mean he knows every word, 

It's best to say he recognizes Latin, 

He sat down again with satisfaction; 

The Pilgrim circled round the farmer, 

He smiled at him like a snake charmer, 

'What you heard, did it sound like this? 

‘<i>Je suis un homme des ivresse</i>.''

'Yes, ' said the farmer with uncertain frown; 

It was very like that … a swishy sound; '

'Very good, I am impressed, '

Said the Pilgrim to the witness.

'Backward Latin, did it have this refrain? 

‘<i>Je suis mal homme, un vrai vilain.</i>''




'Yes, yes, that's what it seemed, '

Said the farmer, his face agleam; 

'Very good, ' said Zechariah, 

'And heard you the girl in smoke and fire

Say, ‘<i>Monsignor, Je suis menteur</i>! '

Did it sound like that, are you sure? '

'Yes, ' said the farmer, growing bolder, 

Smiling now, as he rolled his shoulders, 

His face flushed from his excess, 

Please with himself at his success.

The Pilgrim turned round to face the bench, 

'Then by Brown, the witness, the Devil's French! '