Guendolen

“ Talk not of shame—and tell me not of truth.
CAMBER.
Then shalt thou hear a lie. Thy loving lord
Loves none save thee; his heart’s pulse beats in thine;
No fairer woman, captive of his sword,
Caught ever captive and subdued Locrine:
The god of lies bear witness. At the ford
Of Humber blood was never shed like wine:
Our brother Albanact lived, fought, and died,
Never: and I that swear it have not lied.
GUENDOLEN.
Fairer?
CAMBER.
They say it: but what are lies to thee?
GUENDOLEN.
Art thou nor man nor woman?
CAMBER.
Nay—I trust—
Man.
GUENDOLEN.
And hast heart to make thy spoil of me? ”

“ Gudgeon had Gwendoline. Gwendoline was the little fire on Mr. Gudgeon's secret hearth. He loved her, and though he never thought about it, not being a reflective person, he was certain that she liked him best. There was an understanding between them. He knew her ways: when she liked to be "changed down," how to coax her up Hill Rise, and when, in spite of the garage expert, she was feeling "below par." Unlike the other drivers he never left her to freeze stiff in the bitter winter blasts whilst he warmed himself before the fire at The King's Arms, but covered her radiator with his own blanket. ”

“ Mr. Gudgeon wrapped himself in his blanket. Rage blazed up in him. The cool spring wind fanned it. It brought across the waste of sooty, crowded houses the forgotten scent of fields. Rage against the Inspector and the Bus-Conductor, against life, against the Golightlys and all people who beat children and animals, rage against the Stout Gentleman who so obviously ate too much, and against all the monotony of things.
Mr. Gudgeon put in his clutch, loosened his brakes. It was to be his and Gwendoline's last journey together. ”

“ They just start out blindly and keep on going, as Mr. Gudgeon did. Of course luck was with him. It was a slack time of the day, and the main thoroughfares were fairly clear. When they weren't Mr. Gudgeon swerved into side streets, which, never having seen a bus before, were considerably astonished, and if necessary he turned back on himself, so that the mounted police got hot on several wrong scents and never so much as caught a glimpse of him. And then Gwendoline played up like the great-hearted, gallant creature she was. ”

“ Gudgeon was a nice man who was kind when no one else was looking. So she came a little nearer, with her mug clasped between two blue and grubby hands, and said, "I dunno," without a tremor.
Mr. Gudgeon stared at Elfreda. He wasn't given to seeing people in detail. Kids were kids. Sometimes they were "young varmints." That was all he knew about them. It was as though Elfreda had stepped out of a fog with her red-button nose shining plaintively in the midst of her small white face and her eyes round with permanent bewilderment.
"Ought ter be in bed," said Mr. Gudgeon. "Where's yer mother?" ”

“ On race days you put a shilling on with the drawer at the Crown just to reassure yourself that “'orses were still 'orses”” somewhere in the world, and on Sunday morning, whatever happened, you changed your shirt.
That was life. Everybody's life.
Some men, of course, had wives and children. Or they took to drink. Once Mr. Gudgeon himself had had a love affair, but that had been a long time ago—'way back in the village whence he came and whose name he had almost forgotten. Nothing had come of it. For Mr. Gudgeon, like so many red-headed, freckled-nosed people, was awkward and diffident. ”

“ Gwendolen's face had allowably become contented again, since Rex's arm had been reset; and now, at the descriptive suggestions in the latter part of her uncle's speech, her elated spirits made her features less manageable than usual; the smiles broke forth, and finally a descending scale of laughter.
"You are a pretty young lady—to laugh at other people's calamities," said Mr Gascoigne, with a milder sense of disapprobation than if he had not had counteracting reasons to be glad that Gwendolen showed no deep feeling on the occasion. ”

“ GWENDOLEN.
Do you allude to me, Miss Cardew, as an entanglement? You are presumptuous. On an occasion of this kind it becomes more than a moral duty to speak one’s mind. It becomes a pleasure.
CECILY.
Do you suggest, Miss Fairfax, that I entrapped Ernest into an engagement? How dare you? This is no time for wearing the shallow mask of manners. When I see a spade I call it a spade.
GWENDOLEN.
[Satirically.] I am glad to say that I have never seen a spade. It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different. ”

“ Certainly, to be settled at Offendene, with the notice of Lady Brackenshaw, the archery club, and invitations to dine with the Arrowpoints, as the highest lights in her scenery, was not a position that seemed to offer remarkable chances; but Gwendolen's confidence lay chiefly in herself. She felt well equipped for the mastery of life. ”

“ Gwendolen’s will had seemed imperious in its small girlish sway; but it was the will of a creature with a large discourse of imaginative fears: a shadow would have been enough to relax its hold. And she had found a will like that of a crab or a boa-constrictor, which goes on pinching or crushing without alarm at thunder. Not that Grandcourt was without calculation of the intangible effects which were the chief means of mastery; indeed, he had a surprising acuteness in detecting that situation of feeling in Gwendolen which made her proud and rebellious spirit dumb and helpless before him. ”

“ Every one is of consequence in this dreary country,” said Gwendolen, curtly. The perception that poor Rex wanted to be tender made her curl up and harden like a sea-anemone at the touch of a finger.
“Are you angry with me, Gwendolen? Why do you treat me in this way all at once?” said Rex, flushing, and with more spirit in his voice, as if he too were capable of being angry.
Gwendolen looked round at him and smiled. “Treat you? Nonsense! I am only rather cross. Why did you come so very early? You must expect to find tempers in dishabille.” ”

“ People always seem to think that they are improper, and either look shocked, which is vulgar, or laugh, which is worse. But German sounds a thoroughly respectable language, and indeed, I believe is so. Gwendolen, you will accompany me.
Gwendolen. Certainly, mamma.
[Lady Bracknell and Algernon go into the music-room, Gwendolen remains behind.]
Jack. Charming day it has been, Miss Fairfax.
Gwendolen. Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous. ”

“ Gwendolen. Ernest! My own Ernest! I felt from the first that you could have no other name!
Jack. Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?
Gwendolen. I can. For I feel that you are sure to change.
Jack. My own one!
Chasuble. [To Miss Prism.] Lætitia! [Embraces her]
Miss Prism. [Enthusiastically.] Frederick! At last!
Algernon. Cecily! [Embraces her.] At last!
Jack. Gwendolen! [Embraces her.] At last!
Lady Bracknell. My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality. ”

“ Mr. Gudgeon blinked at the crowd of white, upturned faces. They weren't just “varmints” now. He saw them separately. They were all Elfredas and embryo Mr. Gudgeons—little human beings that were being brought to serve some faceless, senseless tyrant and to be tossed aside when their day was done. They clamored, “Give us a ride, Mister,” as if they were clamoring for the moon. There wasn't a real hope among them.
It was then Mr. Gudgeon went mad. He leaned over Gwendoline's side. “If you want a ride—get in,” he said.
VIII
NOBODY could have blamed the Bus-Conductor. ”

“ Roughly speaking, all the Jewish burden of the story tended to weary me; it is this part that produces the poor illusion which I agree with Pulcheria in finding. Gwendolen and Grandcourt are admirable—Gwendolen is a masterpiece. She is known, felt and presented, psychologically, altogether in the grand manner. Beside her and beside her husband—a consummate picture of English brutality refined and distilled (for Grandcourt is before all things brutal) , Deronda, Mordecai and Mirah are hardly more than shadows. They and their fortunes are all improvisation. ”

“ Breathe only the perfume which exhales towards thee. Take no advantage of the self-ignorant child, or of the future male!
"Soon after this my grandmother died. I determined to set to work to search for the being whom I could love according to my nature; that is why I exiled myself to, this island; I had the presentiment of meeting here my elect. Guidon had only to show himself for my heart to leap at once towards him. I recognised in him aptitudes for the arts that I love, elevated ideas and sentiments on life, of a kind different from those of the downtrodden crowd. ”

“ You don’t mean to say Gwendolen refused you? I know it is a way she has. She is always refusing people. I think it is most ill-natured of her.
Jack. Oh, Gwendolen is as right as a trivet. As far as she is concerned, we are engaged. Her mother is perfectly unbearable. Never met such a Gorgon . . . I don’t really know what a Gorgon is like, but I am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one. In any case, she is a monster, without being a myth, which is rather unfair . . . I beg your pardon, Algy, I suppose I shouldn’t talk about your own aunt in that way before you.
Algernon. ”

“ They could see the two horses being taken slowly round the sweep, and the beautiful creatures, in their fine grooming, sent a thrill of exultation through Gwendolen. They were the symbols of command and luxury, in delightful contrast with the ugliness of poverty and humiliation at which she had lately been looking close.
"Will you ride Criterion to-morrow?" said Grandcourt. "If you will, everything shall be arranged."
"I should like it of all things," said Gwendolen. "I want to lose myself in a gallop again. But now I must go and fetch mamma." ”

“ In this, perhaps, Pierre himself could assist, or Gwendolen,—if she could only see Gwendolen. "Gwendolen!" She stretched out her [pg 194] arms to the sunless, vacant sky, and called her friend's name aloud.
Whether telepathy is a fact, or merely a pet child of some philosophers, whether or not the ether of the East holds subtler vibrations than our own, it is certain that exactly at this moment Gwendolen awoke in her foreign bed from hurrying dreams of Yuki, and lay awake, staring, a sudden weight of apprehension full upon her. The excitement of war may have sharpened American senses also. ”

“ Waterlow, though he had been more than willing that Gwendolen should occupy the slightly ridiculous and humiliating position that he had imagined to be Mrs. Waterlow's, he had never for a moment imagined that Gwendolen's disingenuous docility would go as far as this. So many people might love red lacquer and old glass with a clear conscience, once they had been brought to see them; but who, with a clear conscience, could love black satin furniture and marble vases? ”

“ And words could hardly be too wide or vague to indicate the prospect that made a hazy largeness about poor Gwendolen on the heights of her young self-exultation. Other people allowed themselves to be made slaves of, and to have their lives blown hither and thither like empty ships in which no will was present. It was not to be so with her; she would no longer be sacrificed to creatures worth less than herself, but would make the very best of the chances that life offered her, and conquer circumstances by her exceptional cleverness. ”

“ The Canon shot a sidelong glance in her direction and saw that her cheeks were flaming. He recovered his courage at once. Faint heart, he knew, never won fair lady.
“Gwendolen, I sometimes think that you have worked a miracle, for by your side I feel as young as the summer morning. What can the years matter when I have the spirit and the strength of a youth! I admire you and I love you. ”

“ Anna ended with a beseeching look which touched Gwendolen.
"You are a dear little coz," she said, just touching the tip of Anna’s chin with her thumb and forefinger. "I don’t ever want to do anything that will vex you. Especially if Rex is to make everything come off—charades and everything."
And when at last Rex was there, the animation he brought into the life at Offendene and the Rectory, and his ready partnership in Gwendolen’s plans, left her no inclination for any ridicule that was not of an open and flattering kind, such as he himself enjoyed. ”

“ In a village like Gormanville any passer is of interest to the spectator, and a man running is of thrilling moment. Glendenning started to his feet, and moved forward for a better sight of the flying passer. He called out to the man, who shouted back something I could not understand, and ran on.
"What did he say?"
"I don't know." Glendenning's face as he turned to me again was quite white. "It is Mrs. Bentley's farmer," he added, feebly, and I could see that it was with an effort he kept himself from sinking. "Something has happened." ”

“ The effect of her words now was stronger than she could imagine: they raised a new set of possibilities in Gwendolen's mind—a vision of what Grandcourt might do for her mother if she, Gwendolen, did—what she was not going to do. She was so moved by a new rush of ideas, that like one conscious of being urgently called away, she felt that the immediate task must be hastened: the letter must be written, else it might be endlessly deferred. ”