Authors: Ronald Firbank
B007TB5SP0 EBOK (50 page)
| | | ‘Poor Pale pierrot through the dark boughs peering |
| | | In the purple gloaming of a summer’s evening, |
| | | Oh his heart is breaking, can’t you hear him sobbing, |
| | | Or is it the wind that’s passing along the yellow roses? …’ |
| | | An imperfect scarab that owed its existence chiefly to loitering in Looking-Glass Street, or thereabouts. |
| 70 | Choosing her way along it, she perceived, … | Choosing her way along it, Aurelia perceived, … |
| 71 | ‘… and put in an indelicate modern window …’ | ‘… and put in a Russian ballet window …’ |
| 71 | … of the Ashringford Volunteers, was a bleak brick cottage, … | … of the Ashringford Volunteers, to whom there was an explanatory tablet in St Cyriac’s which related, like a page torn from Achilles Tatius, how and where, and by whose manicured extremities he fell, was a bleak brick cottage, … |
| 71 | A short path bordered by mild, cow’s-breath-scented phlox, led up to the porticoed entrance, where a tree, like a stout cook waiting for orders, did its best to shut out the view. | A short path with a twist like a lizard’s tail led up to the entrance, where an unremarkable tree with a long Latin name did its best to keep out the light. |
| 72 | … the unexpected behaviour of poor Aunt Nettie … | … the unexpected behaviour of poor Aunt Nettle … |
| 73 | ‘With the morsels removed,’ Mrs Wookie announced, ‘I shall make, if I’m spared, something rather choice for the League of Patriots bazaar.’ | ‘With the scraps of stuff I’ve taken,’ Mrs Wookie announced, ‘I can make four small pincushions; or two large ones.’ |
| 73 | ‘… Freeport, or somewhere—’ | ‘… Scheveningen, or somewhere—’ |
| 74 | ‘In the ’sixties,’ she crooned, … | ‘In the forties,’ she crooned, … |
| 75 | Mrs Wookie slipped a pink-clad hot water-bottle from under her back. | Mrs Wookie joined her hands. |
| 76 | ‘But,’ Aurelia gulped an eyelash, ‘in the official portrait,’ she objected, ‘he appears such a little gasp of a man!’ | ‘But in the official portrait,’ Aurelia objected, ‘he appears such a little gasp of a man!’ |
| 77 | ‘… And Cardinal Pringle will appear …’ | ‘… The Cardinal Pringle will appear …’ |
| 81 | … a sumptuous sapphire, changing black … | … a sumptuous sapphire, changing back … |
| 84 | ‘… A Dame, who, (for the next few weeks) prefers to remain unknown wishes to remove …’ | ‘… The beautiful Mrs S, who (for the next few weeks) wishes to remain unknown, desires to remove …’ |
| 84 | ‘… But the west window, the war window …’ | ‘But the west window … the pre-Raphaelite window …’ |
| 84 | ‘To remove the war window,’ the Bishop said, … | ‘To remove the west window,’ the Bishop said, … |
| 85 | ‘Do you go often to the play?’ ‘The last time,’ his lordship confessed, ‘I went was to see Mrs Kendall …’ | ‘Do you often go to the play?’ ‘The last time I went,’ his lordship confessed, ‘was to see Mrs Kendall …’ |
| 89 | … surveying, meanwhile, the newly painted scene; … | … surveying, meanwhile, the newly planted scene; … |
| 90 | ‘… something picked him up, and danced him round …’ | ‘… something picked him up, and danced round him …’ |
| 96 | ‘… But he’s not going to be stitched into a Vionnet model by eight …’ | ‘… But he’s not going to be stitched into a Poiret model by eight …’ |
| 96 | ‘Is that a Vionnet shimmering across the bed … ?’ | ‘Is that a Poiret shimmering across the bed? …’ |
| 99 | … equalled by her horror for the word flea … | … equalled by her horror of the word flea … |
| 100 | ‘I’m quite certain … that Sir Victor would not require much pressing.’ | ‘I’m quite certain … that Lord Blueharnis would not require much pressing.’ |
| 100 | ‘… He is getting exactly like that preposterous effigy of King Edward the Last in the Public Gardens.’ | ‘… He is getting exactly like that awkward effigy of the late Earl in the Public Gardens.’ |
| 101 | ‘Mrs Barrow of Dawn vows it produces a romantic effect on her.’ | ‘Mrs Barrow of Dawn vows she can fall in love with it a mile away.’ |
| 108 | … Miss Valley fluted, as she followed Lady Anne towards the door. | … Miss Valley murmured, as she followed Lady Anne towards the door. |
| 109 | There was no squeezing, fainting, crushing or trampling. | There was no squeezing, fainting, crushing, or tramping. |
| 110 | ‘I’m certainly not surprised’. ‘Define Belief ,’ Aurelia unsteadily quavered. ‘Intuition!’ | ‘I’m certainly not surprised’. ‘He’s so worn,’ Miss Chimney observed critically, ‘and she’s so passée .’ Aurelia touched the tapestries with her thumb. ‘It’s probably only the stuff.’ |
| 110 | ‘Were I being painted,’ Mrs Pontypool intensely remarked opening and closing her fan, ‘I’d be inclined to favour Roy Quilimane …’ | ‘If I were getting painted,’ Mrs Pontypool announced, ‘again I’d try Mr White …’ |
| 110 | ‘Anything nude,’ she said, ‘revolts me somehow so …’ | ‘Anything nude, anything undressed, anything without a frill ,’ she said, ‘revolts me somehow so …’ |
| 110 | ‘We rang and rang,’ Miss Clara said. | ‘We rang and we rang,’ Miss Clara said. |
| 110 | Lady Anne fetched a breath. ‘To be frank,’ she said dryly, ‘you might be stopping …’ | ‘To be frank,’ Lady Anne said absently, ‘you might be stopping …’ |
| 111 | … Even at a Poet’s dinner. ‘We were getting …’ | … Even at a Poet’s dinner. ‘Now I know,’ she said, ‘exactly where to tie a necklace. On my arm.’ ‘We were getting …’ |
| 111 | ‘My publisher, at any rate, could be found,’ she said, ‘for I’ve had the same one always!’ To which Miss Valley answered: ‘… Pouf!’ ‘But the … | ‘My publisher, at any rate, could be found,’ she said. ‘I’ve had the same man always. Byron had him. And Coleridge had him. And Keats. I should be really ashamed to fluster from firm to firm like some of those things one sees … I simply couldn’t do it. And God looks after me! He has never abandoned me yet to sit up night after night in a public-house to libel His saints by Christmas.’ |
| | | ‘My dear, I congratulate you! To compose an essay on Self-Control when one is so strangely devoid of it oneself was an admirable tour de force.’ |
| | | But the … |
| 111 | ‘Because a certain Signor Calixfontus,’ she said, … | ‘That a certain Signor Calixfontus,’ she said, … |
| 112 | … the room bore some faint chronological trace … | … it bore some faint chronological trace … |
| 115 | … a rather boring Louis XVI bedroom … | … a rather boring Louis the Sixteenth bedroom … |
| 119 | … a room waiting ready to receive it … | … a room ready waiting to receive it … |
| 128 | ‘… The other is one of those curious colour contrasts … So quickly.’ | ‘… The other is one of those curious colour contrasts … So sickly …’ |
| 131 | Monday. Day Dawn. The little turquoise flower … | The little turquoise flower … |
| 136 | Mrs Calvally rippled. ‘I conclude it’s only the carpenter,’ she explained, … | Mrs Calvally chuckled. ‘I conclude it’s only the carpenter,’ she explained, … |
| 138 | Since his arrival in Ashringford he had been at work on a Gilles de Rais , … | Since his arrival in Ashringford he had been at work on a Gilles de Raie , … |
| 140 | ‘I hear everything.’ ‘Whisper what you’ve heard.’ | ‘I hear everything.’ ‘Which, invariably, you exaggerate!’ ‘It’s no crime to exaggerate. It’s a sign of vitality rather. Health …’ ‘Whisper what you’ve heard.’ |
| 141 | ‘… there would have been an end of them.’ | ‘… there would have been an end to them.’ |
| 150 | ‘… where Sir Victor, I believe …’ | ‘… where Lord Blueharnis, I believe …’ |
| 152 | … with a basket of cattleya orchids, … | … with a basket of orchids, … |
| 152 | ‘Sometimes,’ Mrs Pet protested, ‘I have no loftier wish than to view the world with Kate Greenaway’s eyes!’ | ‘Sometimes,’ Mrs Pet protested, ‘I have no loftier wish than to look upon the world with Kate Greenaway’s eyes!’ |
| 163 | ‘He’s a true Cresswell.’ | ‘He is a true Cresswell.’ |
| 163 | ‘… “And I shall have a doll and a bird to talk to it.” ’ | ‘…“And I shall have a doll and a bird and talk to it.” ’ |
| 168 | And everywhere the stars sprang out like castanets … | And everywhere the stars had sprung out like castanets … |
| 174 | There was the Primitive … And the Blessed Damozel … | There was the Primitive … And a Blessed Damozel … |
| 175 | ‘Victor would still insist that you had saved the country.’ | ‘Jack would insist still that you had saved the country.’ |
| 175–6 | ‘He’s so enchanted with the window. He has got me to change our pew.’ ‘When the sunlight comes it is too superb!’ ‘Yes; and never a glare, dear – ; always tempered.’ ‘Several young men in town …’ | ‘He’s so enchanted with the window. He has got me to change our pew. “Poor Biddy,” he said to me, “she looks really royal. A kind of grandeur—” ’ ‘Several young men in town …’ |
Part II, Chapter IV, of the 1916 Edition of
Inclinations
The ‘intimate’ dinner arranged by Mrs Collins in honour of her daughter proved to be a large one.
A dinner of twenty at a table to hold eighteen.
As course succeeded course came the recurring pressure of a forward footman’s knee.
Half asleep holding a shell-shaped spoon Miss Dawkins explored a sauce-boat as though it had been an Orient liner.
‘Yes Mr Collins.’
‘No Mr Collins.’
‘Aha Mr Collins.’
(‘
Thanks
!’)
‘Yes, God is Love, Mr Collins, and I’m sure they couldn’t help it!’ she said at last.
‘
Già! Già!
’ the Countess struck in, allegro, across a bank of flowers.
‘Well, here’s health, old girl. The very best!’
‘And success to you … and may the gods permit you to find them!’
‘If you ask me, I think it silly to find people,’ the Countess’s former inamorato declared. ‘I don’t want to find anybody! …’
‘No doubt you’ve tried clairvoyance?’ the Member for Bovon asked.
‘Indeed. And palmistry, and phrenology, and cards, and sand …’
‘Well?’
‘Oh well …’ Miss Dawkins said, ‘I was warned I’d marry a septuagenarian within the forbidden degrees and never know it! … Helios, Mene, Tetragrammaton!’
‘Have you looked by the Rhine at all?’
‘Where haven’t I?’
‘Courage!’ the Countess crooned.
‘I’ve a presentiment they’re in India. Somehow I connect my mother’s fair hair with Bombay …’
Mr Collins raised his glass.
‘Then here’s to Bombay!’
‘Oh, nectar, Mr Collins! Show me the cork – I always like to see the cork—! And my dear father was like me there. “The cork, Ola,” he’d say. “A bottle of wine is nothing without the cork.” ’
‘The Count!’ Napier Fairmile with generosity proposed.
The Countess shrugged her shoulders.
‘I’d a letter from Italy this morning,’ she said. ‘It appears in Rome all the roads are up.’
‘Up?’
‘There’s no getting by the Corso at all. Persons going to the Villa Borghese have to pass by the Via Babuino. Oh, good gracious! And my friend says the heat! It’s a grill. Everyone is away still, of course, in villegiatura. But even so! At the Baths at Lucca she says she hears they’re burning …’
‘Well, it was pretty warm, dear, in Greece,’ Miss Dawkins said. ‘The day of the accident I shall never forget how very hot it was!’
‘At Salamis …’
‘Ah, don’t.’
‘Was there ever such a misfortune?’
‘There seems to have been some inexcusable carelessness.’
‘There are certain things we shall never know,’ the Countess murmured, ‘but I’ve sometimes thought that shot was aimed at me!’
Mrs Collins shook her fan.
‘The crazy people Mabel met in Greece!’
‘Both Dorinda, Lady Gaiheart and Mrs Arbanel are parting from their husbands, so I understand.’
‘Poor Lady Dorinda! I fear she has fallen between two stools,’ the Member for Bovon said.
‘And a piano. And a waste-paper basket, if reports are true,’ the Countess replied.
‘Did you meet the Viviotts at all?’
‘There was a Mrs Viviott,’ Miss Dawkins said – ‘a nervy, pretty thing. She and a Mrs Erso-Ennis … Inseparable. And always quarrelling.’