F. Anstey

“ Spurrell. But, Emma, you're not going to take up with some other fellow just when we've come together again?
Phillipson. If you call it "coming together," when I'm down in the housekeeper's room, and you're up above, carrying on with ladies of title!
Spurrell. Do you want to drive me frantic? As if I could help being where I am! How could I know you were here?
Phillipson. At all events, you know now, James. And it's for you to choose between your smart lady friends and me. If you're fit company for them, you're too grand for one of their maids.
Spurrell. My dear girl, don't be unreasonable! ”

“ Fond of horses, eh, Mr.—a—Undershell? Care to come with us?
Undershell (to himself) . I've seen quite enough of that beast already! (Aloud, with some asperity.) You must really excuse me, Sir Rupert. I am at one with Mr. Ruskin—I detest horses.
Sir Rupert. Ah? Pity. We're rather fond of 'em here. But we can't expect a poet to be a sportsman, eh?
Undershell. For my own poor part, I confess I look forward to a day, not far distant, when the spread of civilisation will have abolished every form of so-called Sport.
Sir Rupert. Do you, though? ”

“ Lady Maisie. In that case I shall certainly not trouble you. (To herself.) He may think just what he pleases, I don't care. But, oh, if Mr. Spurrell dares to speak to me after this, I shall astonish him!
Lady Rhoda (to Spurrell) . I say—I am in a funk. Only just heard who I'm next to. I always do feel such a perfect fool when I've got to talk to a famous person—and you're frightfully famous, aren't you?
Spurrell (modestly) . Oh, I don't know—I suppose I am, in a sort of way, through Andromeda. Seem to think so here, anyhow.
Lady Rhoda. ”

“ Lady Culverin. Oh, Rupert, I am so glad. How clever of that nice Mr. Spurrell! I was afraid my poor Deerfoot would have to be shot.
Undershell (to himself) . She may thank me that he wasn't. And this other fellow gets all the credit for it. How like Life!
Lady Maisie. And, Uncle Rupert, how about—about Phillipson, you know? Is it all right?
Sir Rupert. Phillipson? Oh, why, 'pon my word, my dear, didn't think of asking.
Lady Rhoda. But I did, Maisie. And they met this mornin', and it's all settled, and they're as happy as they can be. ”

“ You may, for anything you can tell, have advanced the Social Revolution ten years in a single evening!
Lady Culverin. My dear Rohesia! If you remember, it was you yourself who——!
Lady Cantire (closing her eyes) . I am in no condition to argue about it, Albinia. The slightest exercise of your own common sense would have shown you—— But there, no great harm has been done, fortunately, so let us say no more about it. I have something more agreeable to talk about. I've every reason to hope that Maisie and dear Gerald Thicknesse——
Lady Culverin (astonished) . Maisie? ”

“ Lady Maisie. No, Rhoda. Not his—ours. Mine and mamma's. We ought to have felt from the first that there must be some mistake, that poor Mr. Spurrell couldn't possibly be a poet! I don't know, though—people generally are unlike what you'd expect from their books. I believe they do it on purpose! Not that that applies to Mr. Blair; he is one's idea of what a poet should be. If he hadn't arrived when he did, I don't think I could ever have borne to read another line of poetry as long as I lived!
Lady Rhoda. ”

“ Phillipson. Don't be so solemn, Mr. Undershell! I'm sure you can be as comical as any play-actor when you choose!
Undershell. I really don't know how I can have given you that impression. If you expect me to treat my lyre like a horse-collar, and grin through it, I'm afraid I am unable to gratify you.
Steptoe (at sea) . Capital, sir, the professional allusion very neat. You'll come out presently, I can see, when supper's on the table. Can't expect you to rattle till you've something inside of you, can we?
Miss Stickler. Reelly, Mr. Steptoe, I am surprised at such commonness from you! ”

“ Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Sir Rupert. I wish I could have got here earlier, I'm sure.
Sir Rupert. Wish we'd asked you a month ago, if you're fond of shooting. Thought you might look down on sport, perhaps.
Spurrell (to himself) . Sport? Why, he's talking of birds—not the horse! (Aloud.) Me, Sir Rupert? Not much! I'm as keen on a day's gunning as any man, though I don't often get the chance now.
Sir Rupert (to himself, pleased) . Come, he don't seem strong against the Game Laws! ”

“ I'd no idea your ladyship would have any taste that way; most agreeable surprise to me, I can assure you!
Lady Cantire. I see no reason for surprise in the matter. I have always endeavoured to cultivate my taste in all directions; to keep in touch with every modern development. I make it a rule to read and see everything. Of course, I have no time to give more than a rapid glance at most things; but I hope some day to be able to have another look at your Andromeda. I hear the most glowing accounts from all the judges.
Spurrell (to himself) . She knows all the judges! She must be in the fancy! ”

“ Surely it is wise and prudent to conciliate the clever young men who might inflame the masses against us. Rohesia thinks so; she says it may be our only chance of stemming the rising tide of Revolution, Rupert!
Sir Rupert. Oh, if Rohesia thinks a revolution can be stemmed by asking a few poets down from Saturday to Monday, she might do her share of the stemming at all events.
Lady Culverin. But you will be nice to him, Rupert, won't you?
Sir Rupert. I don't know that I'm in the habit of being uncivil to any guest of yours in this house, my dear, but I'll be hanged if I grovel to him, you know ”

“ Lady Rhoda. As how?
Lady Maisie. You really don't see! Well, then, you shall. He arrives late, and finds that somebody else is here already in his character. He makes no fuss; manages to get a private interview with the person who is passing as himself; when, of course, he soon discovers that poor Mr. Spurrell is as much deceived as anybody else. What is he to do? Humiliate the unfortunate man by letting him know the truth? Mortify my uncle and aunt by a public explanation before a whole dinner-party? That is what a stupid or a selfish man might have done, almost without thinking. ”

“ Lady Culverin. I'm sure I don't, Rupert—at least, no more than everybody else. Dear Rohesia is so strong-minded and advanced and all that, she takes such an interest in all the new movements and things, that she can't understand contradiction; she is so democratic in her ideas, don't you know.
Sir Rupert. Didn't prevent her marrying Cantire. And a democratic Countess—it's downright unnatural!
Lady Culverin. She believes it's her duty to set an example and meet the People half-way. That reminds me—did I tell you Mr. Clarion Blair is coming down this evening, too?—only till Monday, Rupert. ”

“ Undershell. Not exactly! I assure you it is simply inconceivable to me that, in a circle of any pretensions to culture and refinement, an ill-bred boor like that could have been accepted for a single moment as—I won't say a Man of Genius, but——
Lady Maisie (the light dying out of her eyes) . No, don't—don't go on, Mr. Blair. We were all excessively stupid, no doubt, but you must make allowances for us—for me, especially. I have had so few opportunities of meeting people who are really distinguished—in literature, at least. Most of the people I know best are—well, not exactly clever, you know. ”

“ Sir Rupert (heartily) . Why, of course, my dear boy, of course! Never have forgiven you if you hadn't. Great nuisance for you, though. Hope you blew the fool of a man up; he ought to have been round in plenty of time.
Captain Thicknesse. Not the groom's fault, sir. I kept him waitin' a bit, and—and we had to stop to shift the seat and that, and so——
Undershell (to himself) . Great blundering booby! Can't he see nobody wants him here? As if he hadn't bored poor Lady Maisie enough at breakfast! Ah, well, I must come to her rescue once more, I suppose!
Sir Rupert. Half an hour to lunch! ”

“ Lady Culverin (to herself) . He doesn't seem very revolutionary! (Aloud.) That's so sweet of you; when so many must be absolutely fighting to get you!
Spurrell. Oh, as for that, there is rather a run on me just now, but I put everything else aside for you, of course!
Lady Culverin (to herself) . He's soon reassured. (Aloud, with a touch of frost.) I am sure we must consider ourselves most fortunate. (Turning to the Countess.) You did say cream, Rohesia? Sugar, Maisie dearest?
Spurrell (to himself) . I'm all right up to now! I suppose I'd better say nothing about the horse till they do. ”

“ Footman. Will you let me have your keys, if you please, sir?
Spurrell (in some alarm) . My keys! (Suspiciously.) Why, what do you want them for?
"MY KEYS! WHY, WHAT DO YOU WANT THEM FOR?"
Lady Cantire (in a whisper) . Isn't he deliciously unsophisticated? Quite a child of nature! (Aloud.) My dear Mr. Spurrell, he wants your keys to unlock your portmanteau and put out your things; you'll be able to dress for dinner all the quicker.
Spurrell. Do you mean—am I to have the honour of sitting down to table with all of you?
Lady Culverin (to herself) . Oh, my goodness, what will Rupert say? ”

“ Lady Culverin (to herself) . Can Rohesia have known this? What possible object could she have had in—— And oh, dear, how disgusted Rupert will be!
Sir Rupert (to himself) . Seems a decent young chap enough! Too bad of Rohesia to let him in for this. I don't care a straw what he is—he's none the worse for not being a poet.
Lady Cantire (to herself) . What is he maundering about? It's utterly inconceivable that I should have made any mistake. It's only too clear what the cause is—Claret!
Spurrell (aloud, good-humouredly) . ”

“ I hope you'll make yourself quite at home. Her ladyship gave particular directions that we was to look after you—most particular she was!
Undershell. You are very good, ma'am. I am obliged to Lady Culverin for her (with a gulp) condescension. But I shall not trespass more than a short time upon your hospitality.
Mrs. Pomfret. Don't speak of it as trespassing, sir. It's not often we have a gentleman of your profession as a visitor, but you are none the less welcome. Now I'd better introduce you all round, and then you won't feel yourself a stranger. Miss Phillipson you have met, I know. ”

“ Undershell. I merely wished to know—that was all. (Turning with resigned disgust to Drysdale.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a bookstall like this one feels the pulse, as it were, of Contemporary Culture; and here my Andromeda, which no less an authority than the Daily Chronicle hailed as the uprising of a new and splendid era in English Song-making, a Poetic Renascence, my poor Andromeda, is trampled underfoot by— (choking) —Men with Missing Toes! What a satire on our so-called Progress! ”

“ SELECT PASSAGES FROM A COMING POET
In the Morning Room at Wyvern. Lady Rhoda Cokayne, Mrs. Brooke-Chatteris, and Miss Vivien Spelwane are comfortably established near the fireplace. The Hon. Bertie Pilliner, Captain Thicknesse, and Archie Bearpark, have just drifted in.
Miss Spelwane. Why, you don't mean to say you've torn yourselves away from your beloved billiards already? Quite wonderful!
Bertie Pilliner. It's too horrid of you to leave us to play all by ourselves! We've all got so cross and fractious we've come in here to be petted! ”

“ Sir Rupert. Ah, and this chap would put down the Game Laws if he could, I dare say; do away with everything that makes the country worth living in. Why, if he had his way, Albinia, there wouldn't be——
Lady Culverin. I know, dear, I know. And you must make him see all that from your point. Look, the weather really seems to be clearing a little. We might all of us get out for a drive or something after lunch. I would ride, if Deerfoot's all right again; he's the only horse I ever feel really safe upon, now.
Sir Rupert. Sorry, my dear, but you'll have to drive then. ”

“ Lady Culverin. So glad you found him agreeable, my dear. I was half afraid he might strike you as—well, just a little bit common in his way of talking.
Lady Rhoda. P'raps—but, after all, one can't expect those sort of people to talk quite like we do ourselves, can one?
Lady Cantire. Is that Mr. Spurrell you are finding fault with, Albinia? It is curious that you should be the one person here who—— I consider him a very worthy and talented young man, and I shall most certainly ask him to dinner—or lunch, at all events—as soon as we return. ”

“ Sir Rupert (uneasily) . A poet! What on earth possessed you to ask a literary fellow down here? Poetry isn't much in our way; and a poet will be, confoundedly!
"WHAT ON EARTH POSSESSED YOU TO ASK A LITERARY FELLOW DOWN HERE?"
Lady Culverin. I really couldn't help it, Rupert. Rohesia insisted on my having him to meet her. She likes meeting clever and interesting people. And this Mr. Blair, it seems, has just written a volume of verses which are finer than anything that's been done since—well, for ages!
Sir Rupert. What sort of verses? ”

“ Lady Rhoda (unimpressed) . I expect you haven't tried. Are you a—what d'ye call it?—a Lacedemoniac?
Undershell (with lofty tolerance) . I presume you mean a "Laodicean." No, I should rather describe myself as a Deist.
Archie (in a surly undertone) . What's a Deast when he's at home? If he'd said a Beast, now! (Aloud, as Pilliner enters with Captain Thicknesse.) Hullo, why, here's Thicknesse! So you haven't gone, after all, then?
Captain Thicknesse. What an observant young beggar you are, Bearpark! Nothin' escapes you. No, I haven't. (To Sir Rupert, rather sheepishly.) ”

“ Miss Spelwane. I told Lady Lullington that I was afraid you would think it a bore, Lady Cantire.
Lady Cantire. You are perfectly mistaken, Miss Spelwane. I flatter myself I am quite as capable of appreciating a literary privilege as anybody here. ”

“ Undershell and Drysdale return.
Drysdale (to Undershell) . Well, I don't see now where the insolence comes in. These people have invited you to stay with them——
Undershell. But why? Not because they appreciate my work—which they probably only half understand—but out of mere idle curiosity to see what manner of strange beast a Poet may be! And I don't know this Lady Culverin—never met her in my life! What the deuce does she mean by sending me an invitation? Why should these smart women suppose that they are entitled to send for a Man of Genius, as if he was their lackey? Answer me that! ”

“ Lady Maisie (to herself) . And no wonder! I feel horribly guilty! (Aloud.) You mustn't blame poor Mr. Spurrell, Phillipson; he couldn't help it!
Phillipson (with studied indifference) . I'm not blaming him, my lady. If he prefers the society of his superiors to mine, he's very welcome to do so; there's others only too willing to take his place!
Lady Maisie. Surely none who would be as fond of you or make so good a husband, Phillipson!
Phillipson. That's as maybe, my lady. There was one young man that travelled down in the same compartment, and sat next me at supper in the room. ”

“ You've made quite a success with your Andromeda, haven't you? I only go by what I'm told—I don't read much myself. We women have so many really serious matters to attend to—arranging about dinners, and visits, and trying on frocks, and then rushing about from party to party. I so seldom get a quiet moment. Ah, I knew I wanted to ask you something. Did you ever know any one called Lady Grisoline?
Spurrell. Lady—er—Grisoline? No; can't say I do. I know Lady Maisie, that's all. ”