the love affairs of a bibliomaniac(藏书癖者的爱情)-第13章
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with their shouts；'' his printer made the line read ‘‘the crowd rent the air
with their snouts。'' However； this error was a natural one； since it occurs
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in the ‘‘Catechism of the Swinish Multitude。 ‘‘Royalty only are
privileged when it comes to the matter of blundering。 When Louis XIV。
was a boy he one day spoke of ‘‘un carosse''； he should have said ‘‘une
carosse；'' but he was king； and having changed the gender of carosse the
change was accepted； and unto this day carosse is masculine。
That errors should occur in newspapers is not remarkable； for much of
the work in a newspaper office is done hastily。 Yet some of these errors
are very amusing。 I remember to have read in a Berlin newspaper a
number of years ago that ‘‘Prince Bismarck is trying to keep up honest
and straightforward relations with all the girls'' （madchen）。
This statement seemed incomprehensible until it transpired that the
word ‘‘madchen'' was in this instance a misprint for ‘‘machten；'' a word
meaning all the European powers。
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X
WHEN FANCHONETTE BEWITCHED ME
The garden in which I am straying has so many diversions to catch my
eye； to engage my attention and to inspire reminiscence that I find it hard
to treat of its beauties methodically。 I find myself wandering up and
down； hither and thither； in so irresponsible a fashion that I marvel you
have not abandoned me as the most irrational of madmen。
Yet how could it be otherwise？ All around me I see those things that
draw me from the pathway I set out to pursue： like a heedless butterfly I
flit from this sweet unto that； glorying and revelling in the sunshine and
the posies。 There is little that is selfish in a love like this； and herein we
have another reason why the passion for books is beneficial。 He who
loves women must and should love some one woman above the rest； and
he has her to his keeping； which I esteem to be one kind of selfishness。
But he who truly loves books loves all books alike； and not only this；
but it grieves him that all other men do not share with him this noble
passion。 Verily； this is the most unselfish of loves！
To return now to the matter of booksellers； I would fain impress you
with the excellences of the craft； for I know their virtues。 My association
with them has covered so long a period and has been so intimate that even
in a vast multitude of people I have no difficulty in determining who are
the booksellers and who are not。
For； having to do with books； these men in due time come to resemble
their wares not only in appearance but also in conversation。 My
bookseller has dwelt so long in his corner with folios and quartos and
other antique tomes that he talks in black…letter and has the modest；
engaging look of a brown old stout binding； and to the delectation of
discriminating olfactories he exhaleth an odor of mildew and of tobacco
commingled； which is more grateful to the true bibliophile than all the
perfumes of Araby。
I have studied the craft so diligently that by merely clapping my eyes
upon a bookseller I can tell you with certainty what manner of books he
sells； but you must know that the ideal bookseller has no fads； being
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equally proficient in and a lover of all spheres； departments； branches； and
lines of his art。 He is； moreover； of a benignant nature； and he denies
credit to none； yet； withal； he is righteously so discriminating that he lets
the poor scholar have for a paltry sum that which the rich parvenu must
pay dearly for。 He is courteous and considerate where courtesy and
consideration are most seemly。
Samuel Johnson once rolled into a London bookseller's shop to ask for
literary employment。 The bookseller scrutinized his burly frame；
enormous hands； coarse face； and humble apparel。
‘‘You would make a better porter；'' said he。
This was too much for the young lexicographer's patience。 He picked
up a folio and incontinently let fly at the bookseller's head； and then
stepping over the prostrate victim he made his exit； saying： ‘‘Lie there；
thou lump of lead！''
This bookseller was Osborne； who had a shop at Gray's Inn Gate。 To
Boswell Johnson subsequently explained： ‘‘Sir； he was impertinent to
me； and I beat him。''
Jacob Tonson was Dryden's bookseller； in the earlier times a seller was
also a publisher of books。 Dryden was not always on amiable terms with
Tonson； presumably because Dryden invariably was in debt to Tonson。
On one occasion Dryden asked for an advance of money； but Tonson
refused upon the grounds that the poet's overdraft already exceeded the
limits of reasonableness。 Thereupon Dryden penned the following lines
and sent them to Tonson with the message that he who wrote these lines
could write more：
With leering looks； bull…faced and freckled fair With
two left legs； with Judas…colored hair； And frowzy pores that taint
the ambient air。
These lines wrought the desired effect： Tonson sent the money which
Dryden had asked for。 When Dryden died Tonson made overtures to
Pope； but the latter soon went over to Tonson's most formidable rival；
Bernard Lintot。 On one occasion Pope happened to be writing to both
publishers； and by a curious blunder he inclosed to each the letter intended
for the other。 In the letter meant for Tonson； he said that Lintot was a
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scoundrel； and in the letter meant for Lintot he declared that Tonson was
an old rascal。 We can fancy how little satisfaction Messrs。 Lintot and
Tonson derived from the perusal of these missent epistles。
Andrew Millar was the publisher who had practical charge of the
production of Johnson's dictionary。 It seems that Johnson drew out his
stipulated honorarium of eight thousand dollars （to be more exact； L1575）
before the dictionary went to press； this is not surprising； for the work of
preparation consumed eight years； instead of three； as Johnson had
calculated。 Johnson inquired of the messenger what Millar said when he
received the last batch of copy。 The messenger answered： ‘‘He said
‘Thank God I have done with him。' '' This made Johnson smile。 ‘‘I am
glad；'' said he； quietly； ‘‘that he thanks God for anything。''
I was not done with my discourse when a book was brought in from
Judge Methuen； the interruption was a pleasant one。 ‘‘I was too busy last
evening；'' writes the judge； ‘‘to bring you this volume which I picked up in
a La Salle street stall yesterday。 I know your love for the scallawag
Villon； so I am sure you will fancy the lines which； evidently； the former
owner of this book has scribbled upon the fly…leaf。'' Fancy them？
Indeed I do； and if you dote on the ‘‘scallawag'' as I dote on him you also
will declare that our anonymous poet has not wrought ill。
FRANCOIS VILLON
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I； What would it matter
to me how the time might drag or fly？ HE would in sweaty anguish toil
the days and nights away； And still not keep the prowling； growling；
howling wolf at bay！ But； with my valiant bottle and my frouzy brevet…
bride； And my score of loyal cut…throats standing guard for me outside；
What worry of the morrow would provoke a casual sigh If I were Francois
Villon and Francois Villon I？
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I； To yonder gloomy
boulevard at midnight I would hie； ‘‘Stop； stranger！ and deliver your
possessions； ere you feel The mettle of my bludgeon or the temper of my
steel！'' He should give me gold and diamonds； his snuff…box and his cane
‘‘Now back； my boon companions； to our bordel with our gain！'' And；
back within that brothel； how the bottles they would fly； If I were
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Francois Villon and Francois Villon I！
If I were Francois Villon and Francois Villon I； We both would mock
the gibbet which the law has lifted high； HE in his meagre； shabby
home； _I_ in my roaring den HE with his babes around him； _I_ with
my hunted men！ His virtue be his bulwarkmy genius should be mine！…
… ‘‘Go； fetch my pen； sweet Margot； and a jorum of your wine！
。 。 。 。 。 。 。
So would one vainly plod； and one win immortality If I were
Francois Villon and Francois Villon I！
My acquaintance with Master Villon was made in Paris during my
second visit to that fascinating capital； and for a while I was under his
spell to that extent that I would read no book but his； and I made journeys
to Rouen； Tours； Bordeaux； and Poitiers for the purpose of familiarizing
myself with the spots where he had lived； and always under the
surveillance of the police。 In fact； I became so infatuated of Villonism
that at one time I seriously thought of abandoning myself to a life of crime
in order to emulate in certain
