Ivo

“ Ivory was deemed good to invoke against rats.
It is probable that Ivhar is the real origin of Ives, the saint who named the town in Huntingdonshire; but legend strangely makes him a Persian bishop, who chose that locality for a hermitage, in the seventh century, and whose body was discovered uncorrupt in the year 1001, thus providing a patron for many an Ivar of Danish or Norman extraction, who became Yvon, or Ivone, in France; and Ivo in the chroniclers. Ivo de Taillebois is the villain of the story of Hereward and his camp of refuge ”

“ Paul was disturbed by this change in Ivo because, although he had always tried to steer clear of social involvement, he could not help feeling that the young alien had become in a measure his responsibility—particularly now that he was a teen-ager. Paul would even have worried about Ivo, if there hadn't been so many other things to occupy his mind. First of all, the producers of The Holiday Tree could not resist the pressure of an adoring public ”

“ For the next four weeks, Paul Lambrequin lurked in his room while Ivo Darcy played Paul Lambrequin playing Eric Everard.
"It's terrific of you to take all this time away from your duties, old chap," Paul said to Ivo one day between the matinee and the evening performances. "I really do appreciate it. Although I suppose you've managed to squeeze some of them in. I never see you on non-matinee afternoons."
"Duties?" Ivo repeated vacantly. "Yes, of course—my duties."
"Let me give you some professional advice, though. Be more careful when you take off your makeup. ”

“ In the 12th century, the canonical works of Ivo of Chartres [22] are of great importance. His Panormia, compiled about 1095 or 1096, is a handy and well-arranged collection in 8 books; as to the Decretum, a weighty compilation in 17 books, Ivo of Chartres. there seems sufficient proof that it is a collection of material made by Ivo in view of his Panormia. To the 12th century belong the collection in the MS. of Saragossa (Caesaraugustana) to which attention was drawn by Antonio Agustin; that of Cardinal Gregory, called by him the Polycarpus, in 8 books (about 1115) ”

“ In one hand--the hand of the injured arm--she grasped the rosary, while the other clasped that of her son. Her eyes rested on the crucifix, and she said, "Dear Savior, Thou hast borne the most cruel pain with a heavenly smile: dear Savior, give me Thy power, hold me when I would tremble; and, when the sharp swords pierce my soul, I will think of thee, O Mother of God, and suffer in silence. Pray with me, dear Ivo." ”

“ Ivo de Chartres, who was imprisoned for his resistance to the adultery of Philip I. and Bertrade of Anjou, and St. Ives of Brittany, the good lawyer, called the advocate of the poor. These Breton Ivons may, however, be from Sir Ywain, or Owen, the same as Eoghan. [118]
118. ”

“ So it was this memory that made Phadric and Ivor smile. Suddenly Ivor began, with a long rising and falling cadence, an old Gaelic rune of the Faring of the Tide:
“Athair, A mhic, A Spioraid Naoimh,
Biodh an Tri-aon leinn, a la’s a dh’ oidhche;
S’ air chul nan tonn, no air thaobh nam beann!”
“O Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Be the Three-in-One with us day and night,
On the crested wave, when waves run high!” ”

“ Ivor's vocabulary was rich, but a little erratic. "I'm not late for dinner, am I?" He hoisted himself up on to the balustrade, and sat there, kicking his heels. With one arm he embraced a large stone flower-pot, leaning his head sideways against its hard and lichenous flanks in an attitude of trustful affection. He had brown, wavy hair, and his eyes were of a very brilliant, pale, improbable blue. His head was narrow, his face thin and rather long, his nose aquiline. In old age-- though it was difficult to imagine Ivor old--he might grow to have an Iron Ducal grimness. ”

“ He was so sure, he didn’t know why nor how, that “that kind of woman” could arouse a deep emotion without that aftermath of impurity which—even at three-and-twenty—taints so many of the fine passages of an adventurous life. And so Ivor longed for her, and guess-work made strange and lovely arabesques on a background of enchantment.
More than two weeks passed, and still he did not telephone to Mrs. Gray. He had made a brave show of determination when with her, but since then his mind had made her of fine texture, and its fineness appalled him. ”

“ He knew more about Sir Ferdinando's household expenses than about his own.
The outdoor party, enrolled under Ivor's banner, consisted of Anne, Mary, Denis, and, rather unexpectedly, Jenny. Outside it was warm and dark; there was no moon. They walked up and down the terrace, and Ivor sang a Neapolitan song: "Stretti, stretti"--close, close--with something about the little Spanish girl to follow. The atmosphere began to palpitate. Ivor put his arm round Anne's waist, dropped his head sideways onto her shoulder, and in that position walked on, singing as he walked. ”

“ At times, also, we backed against huge rocks, and whenever Ivory got me in that awkward fix he would either angrily hiss his intention to finish me off, in payment of old scores, or grind his teeth with grim satisfaction. I can almost imagine, even now, that I feel his hot breath on my neck and the grip of his powerful arms around my body. ”

“ Miss Ivory [goes to father, stands back of his chair and caresses him] . Poor father—don't take it that way—I love you—we must live differently—anything you say—
Wouldby [to Sud] . How sweet and sacrificial!
Sud [enthusiastically] . Ah! She's pure Ivory—a chip off the old block!
Ivory. That is not all. Inkwell represents the brick-layers; he will continue the strike unless I can buy him off.
[Sud goes up right, to be behind them. Faces them. Follows every line in his manuscript.]
Miss Ivory. And you can't raise the money?
Ivory. He doesn't want money. He wants to marry you! ”

“ Ivor is the hero of much absurd fiction. Dafydd ap Gwilym is said to have fallen in love with his daughter, who was sent to a nunnery in Anglesey in order to prevent an alliance, while Dafydd was still retained in Ivor's household as family bard and land steward. ”

“ Vachell was having him on and never cared twopence for what he said. If he could know that I love him he might see that his rattle isn’t broken at all. After all, we were happy—. Ivor doesn’t seem to mind very much whether he is approved of or not. Evan wouldn’t find his ‘moulding’ made much difference in a year or two’s time, and Father says Ivor is all right; he is not afraid of things and tells the truth ”

“ On the upper leaf Christ is represented in glory, youthful and beardless in type, as is often the case in Carlovingian ivories which come from the Germanic part of the empire. There was a flourishing school of German craftsmen who closely imitated the ivories of the Italo-Byzantine school of the sixth century, the great abbeys having many specimens of ancient ivory carving in their treasuries. ”

“ Ivanovitch, Ivan, a lazy, good-natured impersonation of the typical Russian, as John Bull is of the Englishman, and Brother Jonathan of the American.
Ives, St., a town on the Ouse, in Huntingdonshire, 50 m. N. of London, where Oliver Cromwell resided from 1631 to 1635; the chief industries are malting and brewing.
Iviza (22) , the most westerly of the Balearic Isles, is hilly and well wooded, with fertile valleys and important fisheries.
Ivory Coast, a territory on the K. of the Gulf of Guinea, belonging partly to Liberia and partly to France and Britain. ”

“ EYOLF. And what did you lure then?
THE RAT-WIFE. Men. One most of all.
EYOLF. [With eagerness.] Oh, who was that one? Tell me!
THE RAT-WIFE. [Laughing.] It was my own sweetheart, it was, little heart-breaker!
EYOLF. And where is he now, then?
THE RAT-WIFE. [Harshly.] Down where all the rats are. [Resuming her milder tone.] But now I must be off and get to business again. Always on the move. [To RITA.] So your ladyship has no sort of use for me to-day? I could finish it all off while I am about it.
RITA. No, thank you; I don't think we require anything. ”

“ RITA. Yes, in our little Eyolf's place. They shall live in Eyolf's rooms. They shall read his books. They shall play with his toys. They shall take it in turns to sit in his chair at table.
ALLMERS. But this is sheer madness in you! I do not know a creature in the world that is less fitted than you for anything of that sort.
RITA. Then I shall have to educate myself for it; to train myself; to discipline myself.
ALLMERS. If you are really in earnest about this—about all you say—then there must indeed be a change in you.
RITA. Yes, there is, Alfred—and for that I have you to thank. ”

“ RITA. [Rising.] But, Alfred dear, can you not work both for yourself and for Eyolf?
ALLMERS. No, I cannot. It is impossible! I cannot divide myself in this matter—and therefore I efface myself. Eyolf shall be the complete man of our race. And it shall be my new life-work to make him the complete man.
ASTA. [Has risen and now goes up to him.] This must have cost you a terribly hard struggle, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes, it has. At home here, I should never have conquered myself, never brought myself to the point of renunciation. Never at home! ”

“ ALLMERS. She has drawn him down into the depths—that you may be sure of, dear.
ASTA. But, Alfred, why should she?
ALLMERS. Yes, that is just the question! Why should she? There is no retribution behind it all—no atonement, I mean. Eyolf never did her any harm. He never called names after her; he never threw stones at her dog. Why, he had never set eyes either on her or her dog till yesterday. So there is no retribution; the whole thing is utterly groundless and meaningless, Asta.—And yet the order of the world requires it.
ASTA. Have you spoken to Rita of these things? ”

“ RITA. [Exasperated.] Alfred! Alfred—this is intolerable of you!
ALLMERS. [In a low voice, clenching his fists before her face.] In that hour you condemned little Eyolf to death.
RITA. [Wildly.] You, too! You, too—if it is as you say!
ALLMERS. Oh yes—call me to account, too—if you will. We have sinned, both of us. And so, after all, there was retribution in Eyolf's death.
RITA. Retribution?
ALLMERS. [With more self-control.] Yes. Judgment upon you and me. Now, as we stand here, we have our deserts. While he lived, we let ourselves shrink away from him in secret, abject remorse. ”

“ RITA. Yes, do; I wish you would.—Oh! here he is.
[ALFRED ALLMERS, dressed in light summer clothes, enters by the door on the left, leading EYOLF by the hand. He is a slim, lightly-built man of about thirty-six or thirty-seven, with gentle eyes, and thin brown hair and beard. His expression is serious and thoughtful. EYOLF wears a suit cut like a uniform, with gold braid and gilt military buttons. He is lame, and walks with a crutch under his left arm. His leg is shrunken. He is undersized, and looks delicate, but has beautiful intelligent eyes.] ”

“ RITA. Not?
ALLMERS. No. It was so strange. Both you and Eyolf seemed to have drifted far, far away from me—and Asta, too.
RITA. Then what did you think of?
ALLMERS. I did not think. I dragged myself along among the precipices—and revelled in the peace and luxury of death.
RITA. [Springing up.] Oh, don't speak in that way of that horror!
ALLMERS. I did not feel it so. I had no fear. Here went death and I, it seemed to me, like two good fellow-travellers. It all seemed so natural—so simple, I thought. In my family, we don't live to be old—
RITA. Oh, don't say such things, Alfred! ”

“ RITA. [In dread, recoiling from him.] Let me be, Alfred! I am afraid of you. I have never seen you like this before.
ALLMERS. [Looks harshly and coldly at her.] Sorrow makes us wicked and hateful.
RITA. [Terrified, and yet defiant.] That is what I feel, too.
[ALLMERS goes towards the right and looks out over the fiord. RITA seats herself at the table. A short pause.]
ALLMERS. [Turning his head towards her.] You never really and truly loved him—never!
RITA. [With cold self-control.] Eyolf would never let me take him really and truly to my heart. ”

“ Hjalmar replied: “Ivar, I can say the same thing of thee. We, thy three foster-brothers, saw how much thou and Randalin were in love with each other. As for thee, Sigmund,” said he, laughing, “this saying proves true in regard to thee: Many a man acts strangely when in love, but blame not man for that, blame love instead.”
“Dear Sigurd,” said all the foster-brothers at once, “thou hast said nothing to us yet about the maiden thou lovest; and thou art our elder, and we know that no one has a greater admiration and regard for women than thou hast, nor loves their society more than thou dost.” ”

“ You ought most of all to be glad that you have Rita.
ALLMERS. Yes, of course I should. But Rita is no kin to me—it isn't like having a sister.
ASTA. [Eagerly.] Do you say that, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes, our family is a thing apart. [Half jestingly.] We have always had vowels for our initials. Don't you remember how often we used to speak of that? And all our relations—all equally poor. And we have all the same colour of eyes.
ASTA. Do you think I have—?
ALLMERS. No, you take entirely after your mother. You are not in the least like the rest of us—not even like father. ”

“ ALLMERS. He will never be found.
RITA. But what is it then?
ALLMERS. [Coming forward.] Only fighting—as usual.
RITA. Down on the beach?
ALLMERS. Yes. The whole village down there ought to be swept away. Now the men have come home—drunk, as they always are. They are beating the children—do you hear the boys crying! The women are shrieking for help for them—
RITA. Should we not get someone to go down and help them?
ALLMERS. [Harshly and angrily.] Help them, who did not help Eyolf! Let them go—as they let Eyolf go.
RITA. Oh, you must not talk like that, Alfred! ”