by F. Anstey
CHAPTER VIII.
+Podbury finds Consolation.+
SCENE--_A Bridge over the Pegnitz, at Nuremberg. Time, afternoon. Theshadows of the old gabled and balconied houses are thrown sharply on thereddish-yellow water. Above the steep speckled roofs, the spires of St.Lorenz glitter against the blue sky._ CULCHARD _is leaning listlesslyupon the parapet of the bridge._
CULCHARD (_to himself_). How mediaeval it all is, and how infinitelyrestful! (_He yawns._) What a blessed relief to be without that fellowPodbury! He's very careful to keep out of my way--I've scarcely seen himsince I've been here. He must find it dreadfully dull. (_He sighs._) Iought to find material for a colour-sonnet here, with these subdued greytones, those dull coppery-greens, and the glowing reds of the conicalcaps of those towers. I _ought_--but I don't. I fancy thathalf-engagement to Maud Trotter must have scared away the Muse. I wonderif Podbury has really gone yet? (_Here a thump on the back disposes ofany doubt as to this._) Er--so you're still at Nuremberg? [_Awkwardly._
PODB. (_cheerfully_). Rather! Regular ripping old place this--suits medown to the ground. And how are _you_ getting on, my bonnie boy, eh?
CULCH. (_who does not quite like being addressed as a bonnie boy_).Perfectly, thanks. My mind is being--er--stimulated here in thedirection most congenial to it.
PODB. So's mine. By the way, have you got a book--I don't mean a novel,but a regular improving book--the stodgier the better--to lend a fellow?
CULCH. Well, I brought an _Epitome of Herbert Spencer's Synthetic__Philosophy_ away with me to dip into occasionally. It seems a very ablesummary, and you are welcome to it, if it's of any use to you.
PODB. Spencer, eh?--he's a stiff kind of old bird, ain't he? He'll do meto-rights, thanks.
CULCH. It strikes me, Podbury, that you must find the time rather long,to want a book of that kind. If you wish to resume our--ah--originalrelations, I am quite ready to overlook what I am sure was only a phaseof not unnatural disappointment.
PODB. (_cheerfully_). Oh, _that's_ all right, old fellow. I've got overall that business. (_He colours slightly._) How soon did you think ofmoving on?
CULCH. (_briskly_). As soon as you please. We might start for Constanceto-morrow, if you like.
PODB. (_hesitating_). Well, you see, it's just this: there's a fellowstaying at my hotel--Prendergast, his name is--rattling good sort--andI've rather chummed up with him, and--and he's travelling with arelation of his, and--well, the fact is, they rather made a point of mygoing on to Constance with _them_, don't you see? But I daresay we couldwork it so as to go on all together. I'll see what they say about it.
CULCH. (_stiffly_). I'm exceedingly obliged--but so large a party isscarcely--however, I'll let you know whether I can join you or not thisevening. Are you--er--going anywhere in particular just now?
PODB. Well, yes. I've got to meet Prendergast at the _Cafe Noris_. We'regoing to beat up some stables, and see if we can't hire a couple of geesfor an hour or two before dinner. Do you feel inclined for a tittup?
CULCH. Thanks, but I am no equestrian. (_To himself, after_ PODBURY'S_departure._) He seems to manage well enough without me. And yet I dothink my society would be more good for him than----. Why did he want toborrow that book, though? Can my influence after all----(_He walks onthoughtfully, till he finds himself before an optician's window in whicha mechanical monkey is looking through a miniature telescope; the monkeysuddenly turns its head and gibbers at him. This familiarity depresseshim, and he moves away, feeling lonelier than ever._)
ON THE TERRACE OF THE BURG. HALF AN HOUR LATER.
CULCH. (_on a seat commanding a panorama of roofs, gables, turrets, andspires_). Now this is a thing that can only be properly enjoyed when oneis by oneself. The mere presence of Podbury--well, thank goodness, he'sfound more congenial company. (_He sighs._) That looks like an Englishgirl sketching on the next seat. Rather a fine profile, soregular--general air of repose about her. Singular, now I think of it,how little repose there is about Maud. (_The_ Young Lady _rises andwalks to the parapet._) Dear me, she has left her india-rubber behindher. I really think I ought----(_He rescues the india-rubber, which herestores to the owner._) Am I mistaken in supposing that this piece ofindia-rubber is your property?
THE Y. L. (_in musically precise tones_). Your supposition is perfectlycorrect. I was under the impression that it would be safe where it wasfor a few moments; but I am obliged to you, nevertheless. I findindia-rubber quite indispensable in sketching.
CULCH. I can quite understand that. I--I mean that it reducesthe--er--paralysing sense of irrevocability.
THE Y. L. You express my own meaning exactly.
[CULCHARD, _not being quite sure of his own, is proportionatelypleased._
CULCH. You have chosen an inspiring scene, rich with historicalinterest.
THE Y. L. (_enthusiastically_). Yes, indeed. What names rise to one'smind instinctively! Melanchthon, John Huss, Kraft, and Peter Vischer,and Duerer, and Wohlgemut, and Maximilian the First, and Louis ofBavaria!
CULCH. (_who has read up the local history, and does not intend to bebeaten at this game_). Precisely. And the imperious Margrave ofBrandenburg, and Wallenstein, and Gustavus Adolphus, and Goetz vonBerlichingen. One can almost see their--er--picturesque personalitiesstill haunting the narrow streets as we look down.
THE Y. L. I find it impossible to distinguish even the streets fromhere, I confess, but you probably see with the imagination of an artist._Are_ you one by any chance?
"ER--I HAVE BROUGHT YOU THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORK IMENTIONED."]
CULCH. Only in words; that is, I record my impressions in a poetic form.A perfect sonnet may render a scene, a mood, a passing thought, moreindelibly than the most finished sketch; may it not?
THE Y. L. That is quite true; indeed, I occasionally relieve my feelingsby the composition of Greek or Latin verses, which I find, on the whole,better adapted to express the subtler emotions. Don't you agree with methere?
CULCH. (_who has done no Greek or Latin verse since he left school_).Doubtless. But I am hindering your sketch?
THE Y. L. No, I was merely saturating my mind with the general effect. Ishall not really begin my sketch till to-morrow. I am going now. I hopethe genius of the place will inspire you.
CULCH. Thank you. I trust it will--er--have that effect. (_To himselfafter the_ Young Lady _has left the terrace._) Now, that's a verysuperior girl--she has intellect, style, culture--everything the idealwoman _should_ have. I wonder, now, whether, if I had met herbefore--but such speculations are most unprofitable! How clear her eyeslooked through her _pince-nez_! Blue-grey, like Athene's own. If I'dbeen with Podbury, I should never have had this talk. The sight of himwould have repelled her at once. I shall tell him when I take him thatbook that he had better go his own way with his new friends. I like theview from this terrace--I shall come up here again--often.
SCENE--_The Conversations-Saal at the Wurtemburger-Hof. Evening._PODBURY _at the piano_; BOB PRENDERGAST _and his sister_ HYPATIA _seatednear him._
PODB. (_chanting dolefully_)--
Now then, this party as what came from Fla-an-ders, What had the com-plex-i-on rich and rare, He went and took and caught the yaller ja-un-ders-- And his complexion isn't what it were!
MR. AND MISS PRENDERGAST (_joining sympathetically in chorus_). And hiscomplexion _isn't_ what it _were_!
[_There is a faint knock at the door, and_ CULCHARD _enters with avolume under his arm. None of the three observe him, and he stands andlistens stiffly as_ PODBURY _continues,_--
Well, next this party as what came from Fla-an-ders, Whose complex-shun was formi-ally rare, Eloped to Injia with Eliza Sa-aun-ders, As lived close by in Canonbury Square.
CULCH. (_advances to piano and touches_ PODBURY'S _arm with the air ofhis better angel_). Er--I have brought you the philosophical work Imentioned. I will leave it for an occasion when you are--er--in a fitterframe of mind for its perusal.
PODB. Oh, beg pardon, didn't
see you, old fellow. Awfully obliged; jamit down anywhere, and (_whispering_) I say, I want to introduce youto----
CULCH. (_in a tone of emphatic disapproval_). You must really excuse me,as I fear I should be scarcely a congenial spirit in such a party. Sogood-night--or, rather--er--good-_bye_. [_He withdraws._
MISS HYPATIA P. (_just as_ C. _is about to close the door_). Pleasedon't stop, Mr. Podbury, that song is quite too deliciously inane!
[CULCHARD _turns as he hears the voice, and--too late--recognises hisAthene of that afternoon. He retires in confusion, and, as he passesunder the window, hears_ PODBURY _sing the final verse._
The moral is--Now _don't_ you come from Fla-an-ders, If you should have complexions rich and rare; And don't you go and catch the yaller ja-aun-ders, Nor yet know girls in Canonbury Square!
MISS HYPATIA P. (_in a clear soprano_). "Nor yet know girls in CanonburySquare!" [CULCHARD _passes on, crushed._
