dream days-第8章

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said　little；　but　gazed　right　into　our　souls；　and　made　us　tell　him

just　what　was　on　our　minds　at　the　time；　and　then　came　out　with

some　magnificently　luminous　suggestion　that　cleared　every

cloud　away。　　What　was　more　he　would　then　go　off　with　us　at　once

and　play　the　thing　right　out　to　its　finish；　earnestly　and

devotedly；　putting　all　other　things　aside。　　So　we　called　him　the

funny　man；　meaning　only　that　he　was　different　from　those　others

who　thought　it　incumbent　on　them　to　play　the　painful　mummer。　　The

ideal　as　opposed　to　the　real　man　was　what　we　meant；　only　we　were

not　acquainted　with　the　phrase。　　Those　others；　with　their

laboured　jests　and　clumsy　contortions；　doubtless　flattered

themselves　that　THEY　were　funny　men；　we；　who　had　to　sit

through　and　applaud　the　painful　performance；　knew　better。



He　pulled　up　to　a　walk　as　soon　as　he　caught　sight　of　us；　and　the

dog…cart　crawled　slowly　along　till　it　stopped　just　opposite。　

Then　he　leant　his　chin　on　his　hand　and　regarded　us　long　and

soulfully；　yet　said　he　never　a　word；　while　we　jigged　up　and

down　in　the　dust；　grinning　bashfully　but　with　expectation。　　For

you　never　knew　exactly　what　this　man　might　say　or　do。



〃You　look　bored；〃　he　remarked　presently；　〃thoroughly　bored。　　Or

elselet　me　see；　you're　not　married；　are　you？〃



He　asked　this　in　such　sad　earnestness　that　we　hastened　to　assure

him　we　were　not　married；　though　we　felt　he　ought　to　have　known

that　much；　we　had　been　intimate　for　some　time。



〃Then　it's　only　boredom；〃　he　said。　　〃Just　satiety　and　world…

weariness。　　Well；　if　you　assure　me　you　aren't　married　you　can

climb　into　this　cart　and　I'll　take　you　for　a　drive。　　I'm　bored；

too。　　I　want　to　do　something　dark　and　dreadful　and　exciting。〃



We　clambered　in；　of　course；　yapping　with　delight　and　treading　all

over　his　toes；　and　as　we　set　off；　Harold　demanded　of　him

imperiously　whither　he　was　going。



〃My　wife；〃　he　replied；　〃has　ordered　me　to　go　and　look　up　the

curate　and　bring　him　home　to　tea。　　Does　that　sound　sufficiently

exciting　for　you？〃



Our　faces　fell。　　The　curate　of　the　hour　was　not　a　success；　from

our　point　of　view。　　He　was　not　a　funny　man；　in　any　sense　of　the

word。



〃but　I'm　not　going　to；〃　he　added；　cheerfully。　　〃Then　I　was　to

stop　at　some　cottage　and　askwhat　was　it？　　There　was　NETTLE…

RASH　mixed　up　in　it；　I'm　sure。　　But　never　mind；　I've　forgotten；

and　it　doesn't　matter。　　Look　here；　we're　three　desperate　young

fellows　who　stick　at　nothing。　　Suppose　we　go　off　to　the　circus？〃



Of　certain　supreme　moments　it　is　not　easy　to　write。　　The　varying

shades　and　currents　of　emotion　may　indeed　be　put　into　words　by

those　specially　skilled　that　way；　they　often　are；　at　considerable

length。　　But　the　sheer；　crude　article　itselfthe　strong；

live　thing　that　leaps　up　inside　you　and　swells　and　strangles　you；

the　dizziness　of　revulsion　that　takes　the　breath　like　cold

waterwho　shall　depict　this　and　live？　　All　I　knew　was　that　I

would　have　died　then　and　there；　cheerfully；　for　the　funny　man；

that　I　longed　for　red　Indians　to　spring　out　from　the　hedge　on　the

dog…cart；　just　to　show　what　I　would　do；　and　that；　with　all　this；

I　could　not　find　the　least　little　word　to　say　to　him。



Harold　was　less　taciturn。　　With　shrill　voice；　uplifted　in　solemn

chant；　he　sang　the　great　spheral　circus…song；　and　the　undying

glory　of　the　Ring。　　Of　its　timeless　beginning　he　sang；　of　its

fashioning　by　cosmic　forces；　and　of　its　harmony　with　the　stellar

plan。　　Of　horses　he　sang；　of　their　strength；　their　swiftness；　and

their　docility　as　to　tricks。　　Of　clowns　again；　of　the　glory　of

knavery；　and　of　the　eternal　type　that　shall　endure。　　Lastly

he　sang　of　Herthe　Woman　of　the　Ringflawless；　complete；

untrammelled　in　each　subtly　curving　limb；　earth's　highest　output；

time's　noblest　expression。　　At　least；　he　doubtless　sang　all

these　things　and　morehe　certainly　seemed　to；　though　all　that

was　distinguishable　was；　〃We're…goin'…to…the…circus！〃　and　then；

once　more；　〃We're…goin'…to…the…circus！〃the　sweet　rhythmic

phrase　repeated　again　and　again。　　But　indeed　I　cannot　be　quite

sure；　for　I　heard　confusedly；　as　in　a　dream。　　Wings　of　fire

sprang　from　the　old　mare's　shoulders。　　We　whirled　on　our　way

through　purple　clouds；　and　earth　and　the　rattle　of　wheels　were

far　away　below。



The　dream　and　the　dizziness　were　still　in　my　head　when　I　found

myself；　scarce　conscious　of　intermediate　steps；　seated　actually

in　the　circus　at　last；　and　took　in　the　first　sniff　of　that

intoxicating　circus　smell　that　will　stay　by　me　while　this

clay　endures。　　The　place　was　beset　by　a　hum　and　a　glitter　and　a

mist；　suspense　brooded　large　o'er　the　blank；　mysterious　arena。　

Strung　up　to　the　highest　pitch　of　expectation；　we　knew　not　from

what　quarter；　in　what　divine　shape；　the　first　surprise　would

come。



A　thud　of　unseen　hoofs　first　set　us　aquiver；　then　a　crash　of

cymbals；　a　jangle　of　bells；　a　hoarse　applauding　roar；　and　Coralie

was　in　the　midst　of　us；　whirling　past　'twixt　earth　and　sky；　now

erect；　flushed；　radiant；　now　crouched　to　the　flowing　mane；　swung

and　tossed　and　moulded　by　the　maddening　dance…music　of　the　band。　

The　mighty　whip　of　the　count　in　the　frock…coat　marked　time　with

pistol…shots；　his　war…cry；　whooping　clear　above　the　music；　fired

the　blood　with　a　passion　for　splendid　deeds；　as　Coralie；

laughing；　exultant；　crashed　through　the　paper　hoops。　　We

gripped　the　red　cloth　in　front　of　us；　and　our　souls　sped　round

and　round　with　Coralie；　leaping　with　her；　prone　with　her；　swung

by　mane　or　tail　with　her。　　It　was　not　only　the　ravishment　of　her

delirious　feats；　nor　her　cream　coloured　horse　of　fairy　breed；

long…tailed；　roe…footed；　an　enchanted　prince　surely；　if　ever

there　was　one！　　It　was　her　more　than　mortal　beautydisplayed；

too；　under　conditions　never　vouchsafed　to　us　beforethat　held　us

spell…bound。　　What　princess　had　arms　so　dazzlingly　white；　or　went

delicately　clothed　in　such　pink　and　spangles？　　Hitherto　we　had

known　the　outward　woman　as　but　a　drab　thing；　hour…glass　shaped；

nearly　legless；　bunched　here；　constricted　there；　slow　of

movement；　and　given　to　deprecating　lusty　action　of　limb。　　Here

was　a　revelation！　　From　henceforth　our　imaginations　would　have　to

be　revised　and　corrected　up　to　date。　　In　one　of　those　swift

rushes　the　mind　makes　in　high…strung　moments；　I　saw　myself　and

Coralie；　close　enfolded；　pacing　the　world　together；　o'er　hill　and

plain；　through　storied　cities；　past　rows　of　applauding

relations；I　in　my　Sunday　knickerbockers；　she　in　her　pink　and

spangles。



Summers　sicken；　flowers　fail　and　die；　all　beauty　but　rides　round

the　ring　and　out　at　the　portal；　even　so　Coralie　passed　in　her

turn；　poised　sideways；　panting；　on　her　steed；　lightly　swayed　as　a

tulip…bloom；　bowing　on　this　side　and　on　that　as　she　disappeared；

and　with　her　went　my　heart　and　my　soul；　and　all　the　light　and　the

glory　and　the　entrancement　of　the　scene。



Harold　woke　up　with　a　gasp。　　〃Wasn't　she　beautiful？〃　he　said；　in

quite　a　subdued　way　for　him。　　I　felt　a　momentary　pang。　　We　had

been　friendly　rivals　before；　in　many　an　exploit；　but　here　was

altogether　a　more　serious　affair。　　Was　this；　then；　to　be　the

beginning　of　strife　and　coldness；　of　civil　war　on　the　hearthstone

and　the　sundering　of　old　ties？　　Then　I　recollected　the　true

position　of　things；　and　felt　very　sorry　for　Harold；　for　it　was

inexorably　written　that　he　would　have　to　give　way　to　me；　since　I

was　the　elder。　　Rules　were　not　made　for　nothing；　in　a　sensibly

constructed　universe。



There　was　little　more　to　wait　for；　now　Coralie　had　gone；　yet　I

lingered　still；　on　the　chance　of　her　appearing　again。　　Next

moment　the　clown　tripped　up　and　fell　flat；　with　magnificent

artifice；　and　at　once　fresh　emotions　began　to　stir。　　Love　had

endured　its　little　hour；　and　stern　ambition　now　asserted　itself。　

Oh；　to　be　a　splendid　fellow　like　this；　self…contained；　ready　of

speech；　agile　beyond　conception；　braving　the　forces　of　society；

his　hand　against　everyone；　yet　always　getting　the　best　of　it！　

What　freshness　of　humour；　what　courtesy　to　dames；　what

triumphant　ability　to　discomfit　rivals；　frock…coated　and

moustached　though　they　might　be！　　And　what　a　grand；　self…

confident　straddle　of　the　legs！　　Who　could　desire　a　finer　career

than　to　go　through　life　thus　gorgeously　equipped！　　Success　was

his　key…note；　adroitness　his　panoply；　and　the　mellow　music　of

laughter　his　instant　reward。　　Even　Coralie's　image　wavered　and

receded。　　I　would　come　back　to　her　in　the　evening；　of　course；　but

I　would　be　a　clown　all　the　working　hours　of　the　day。



The　short　interval　was　ended：　the　band；　with　long…drawn　chords；

sounded　a　prelude　touched　with　significance；　and　the　programme；

in　letters　overtopping　their　fellows；　proclaimed　Zephyrine；　the

Bride　of　the　Desert；　in　her　unequalled　bareback　equestrian

interlude。　　So　sated　was　I　already　with　beauty　and　with　wit；　that

I　hardly　dared　hope　for　a　fresh　emotion。　　Yet　her　title　was

tinged　with　romance；　and　Coralie's　display　had　aroused　in　me

an　interest　in　her　sex　which　even　herself　had　failed　to　satisfy

entirely。



Brayed　in　by　trumpets；　Zephyrine　swung　passionately　into　the

arena。　　With　a　bound　she　stood　erect；　one　foot　upon　each　of　her

supple；　plunging　Arabs；　and　at　once　I　knew　that　my　fate　was

sealed；　my　chapter　closed；　and　the　Bride　of　the　Desert　was　the

one　bride　for　me。　　Black　was　her　raiment；　great　silver　stars

shone　through　it；　caught　in　the　dusky　twilight　of　her　gauze；

black　as　her　own　hair　were　the　two　mighty　steeds　she　bestrode。　

In　a　tempest　they　thundered　by；　in　a　whirlwind；　a　scirocco　of

tan；　her　cheeks　bore　the　kiss　of　an　Eastern　sun；　and　the　sand…

storms　of　her　native　desert　were　her　satellites。　　What　was

Coralie；　with　her　pink　silk；　her　golden　hair　and　slender　limbs；

beside　this　magnificent；　full…figured　Cleopatra？　　In　a　twinkling

we　were　scouring　the　desertshe　and　I　and　the　two　coal…

black　horses。　　Side　by　side；　keeping　pace　in　our　swinging　gallop；

we　distanced　the　ostrich；　we　outstrode　the　zebra；　and；　as　we

went；　it　seemed　the　wilderness　blossomed　like　the　rose。





。　　　。　　　。　　　。　　　。　　　。　　　。



I　know　not　rightly　how　we　got　home　that　evening。　　On　the　road

there　were　everywhere　strange　presences；　and　the　thud　of　phantom

hoofs　encircled　us。　　In　my　nose　was　the　pungent　circus…smell；　the

crack　of　the　whip　and　the　frank　laugh　of　the　clown　were　in　my

ears。　　The　funny　man　thoughtfully　abstained　from　conversation；

and　left　our　illusion　quite　alone；　sparing　us　all　jarring

criticism　and　analysis；　and　he　gave　me　no　chance；　when　he

deposited　us　at　our　gate；　to　get　rid　of　the　clumsy　expressions　of

gratitude　I　had　been　laboriously　framing。　　For　the　rest　of　the

evening；　distraught　and　silent；　I　only　heard　the　march…music　of

the　band；　playing　on　in　some　corner　of　my　brain。　　When　at

last　my　head　touched　the　pillow；　in　a　trice　I　was　with　Zephyrine；

riding　the　boundless　Sahara；　cheek　to　cheek；　the　world　well　lost；