Herfin' USA - Part 9
The Betrothed
A Poem by Rudyard Kipling
- Breach of Promise Case, Circa 1885 -
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
We quarrelled about Havanas—we fought o’er a good cheroot,
And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.
Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie’s face.
Maggie is pretty to look at—Maggie’s a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.
There’s peace in a Larranaga, there’s calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away—
Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown—
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o’ the talk o’ the town!
Maggie, my wife at fifty—grey and dour and old—
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!
And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love’s torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar—
The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket—
With never a new one to light tho’ it’s charred and black to the socket!
Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila—there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion—bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?
Counsellors cunning and silent—comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?
Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,
This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee’s passion—to do their duty and burn.
This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.
The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.
I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.
I will scent ‘em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.
For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o’ Teen.
And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;
And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.
And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o’-the-Wisp of Love.
Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?
Open the old cigar-box—let me consider anew—
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba—I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I’ll have no Maggie for Spouse!
Now, for the newly minted cigar aficionados among you that have been following this series, there’s one important quotation from this famous poem for you to remember. Don’t throw it around carelessly - at your wife, for example - but as you and a few male friends (assuming you’re male; if not, read no further) light up around a deeply polished mahogany table in some posh cigar room and take that first delectable draw, glance appreciatively at your Havana and expound, “And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.” Your friends will nod approvingly and you will know that you have joined the proud yet humble ranks of the Cigar Aficionado.
More next time. ‘Til then, keep herfin!
Reader Comments (8)
Ah, the series continues! I was missing my continuing education!
I have memorized the quote and will use it next time I light one up with the guys. I only wish a movie crew could be there to capture the moment on film. Maybe I can have someone standing in the bushes with a video camera. If I do, I'll send you the clip of the Hollywood moment.
The poem is a long but enjoyable one. Is it based on a true story, or just a made up poem?
I remember hearing the quotation over the years but never knew where it came from.
Thanks!
OK I will admit it - I read about half and jumped to the end part. Poetry just isn't my thing. But I do read the other cigar lessons. I've tried a few cigars but just haven't found a favorite.
My dad smoked White Owls, they were terrible. Things have improved a lot in cigars.
Smoking is bad for your health. Cigars too.
So do a lot of things people choose to do. We measure the risks and exercise free will.
Those things stink. I know its supposed to be cool and all, but they do. So I guess Maggie is the winner here.
I would suggest SheilaRey, that you have been subjected to what an Aficianado would call a "dog rocket".
If you have ever been around a fine well made cigar (that story is coming up in a future edition), you might think more kindly to those of us that choose to spend an hour of our busy lives slowing down and enjoying something that takes years to make and has as many variations of texture and design as fine wine. With essence of cedar, spice, nutmeg, leather, vanilla and many more (depending on the blend) it can be a very pleasant thing to be around!
Hear! Hear!