The Conversion of St. Vladimir/Canto 8
CANTO VIII
Camarilla
More powerful than ministries
Or any Potentate,
The secret Camarilla
Ruled, too, the Russian State.
Preserve us, Lord—Shumavsky,[1]
The glorious contender!
For every Camarilla seems
To be of female gender.
In his regard of sexes
Vladimir was oblique!
He ruled men with an iron hand,
But women made him weak.
One of his wives was Grecian
And one from Normandy,
Two were Bohemian beauties,
And one from Bulgary.
Three hundred concubines he kept
Besides, in Belegrad;
Three hundred more in Brestov,
Ten score in Vishegrad.
And when you add the women
He kept in different Clubs—
There weren’t as many beakers
In all the Hessian pubs.
Attending these their mothers,
Their cousins and their aunts,
With numerous confessors
And all their ministrants.
This mighty Camarilla
Was with advice replete,
Just as a butcher’s market
Is ever full of meat.
Well did the clamorous lobby
With candidates abound!
The Tsar was much berated
Because their god he drowned.
They railed and jeered and scolded,
As women can,—all day—
Poor Vladimir was worried,
His hair turned almost gray.
And when his trusty Matthew,
At night, came to undress
The Tsar, he had to listen
To tales of his distress.
Mat was his chief adviser—
Kept everything in swing.
He led the Camarilla
And council by a string.
“O Mat, my dearest Matthew,
Relieve me of my yoke;
I cannot cope nor reason
With all those womenfolk!”
Mat, after he disrobed him
And put the Tsar to bed,
At once to the official
Newspaper’s sanctum sped.
“Make this important notice
In your next sheet appear,
Lest you invite a drubbing
From our Tsar Vladimir!”
All Kiev’s population
Next morning read with zeal
In their official paper
The following appeal:
“Tsar Vladimir has ordered
That, by His Royal Grace,
Applicants are invited
To fill god’s vacant place.
“Prospective candidates who
Expect to qualify
Must at Police Headquarters
For legal blanks apply.”
The news of the Imperial
Ukase the Tsar decreed
Spread through the whole dominion
As with a lightning speed.
The telegraphers’ tickers
Like bees a-buzzing hurled
The news through all the papers
Of the entire world.
****
At Rome, the worthy Cardinals
Enjoyed a little glass
Of rum at the Red Lobster Inn
Before they went to Mass.
As Cardinal Samsulini
The “Augsburg Daily” spied,
He jumped up from his armchair
As if electrified.
He ordered him a beaker
Of Lachrimae and ran,
As soon as he had drunk it,
Straight to the Vatican.
With the momentous tidings
Into the chamber bounced
He, noisily awakening
The Pontiff, unannounced.
Up rose the Holy Father,
Dressed with exceeding speed;
Commanded all his Jesuits
The Russians to stampede.
Then ordered with full rations
They should themselves equip
With chants of martial music,
To cheer them on their trip.
- ↑ A Radical of Havlicek’s era.