lavengro-第67章
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longer in the fashion; when this idiotic admirer of his; who is
still grinning at my side; shall have ceased to mould his style on
Byron's; and this aristocracy; squirearchy; and what not; who now
send their empty carriages to pay respect to the fashionable
corpse; shall have transferred their empty worship to some other
animate or inanimate thing。 Well; perhaps after all it was better
to have been mighty Milton in his poverty and blindness … witty and
ingenious Butler consigned to the tender mercies of bailiffs; and
starving Otway; they might enjoy more real pleasure than this
lordling; they must have been aware that the world would one day do
them justice … fame after death is better than the top of fashion
in life。 They have left a fame behind them which shall never die;
whilst this lordling … a time will come when he will be out of
fashion and forgotten。 And yet I don't know; didn't he write
Childe Harold and that ode? Yes; he wrote Childe Harold and that
ode。 Then a time will scarcely come when he will be forgotten。
Lords; squires; and cockneys may pass away; but a time will
scarcely come when Childe Harold and that ode will be forgotten。
He was a poet; after all; and he must have known it; a real poet;
equal to … to … what a destiny! Rank; beauty; fashion;
immortality; … he could not be unhappy; what a difference in the
fate of men … I wish I could think he was unhappy 。 。 。 。
I turned away。
'Great poet; sir;' said the dapper man; turning away too; 'but
unhappy … fate of genius; sir; I; too; am frequently unhappy。'
Hurrying down a street to the right; I encountered Francis Ardry。
'What means the multitude yonder?' he demanded。
'They are looking after the hearse which is carrying the remains of
Byron up Tottenham Road。'
'I have seen the man;' said my friend; as he turned back the way he
had come; 'so I can dispense with seeing the hearse … I saw the
living man at Venice … ah; a great poet。'
'Yes;' said I; 'a great poet; it must be so; everybody says so …
what a destiny! What a difference in the fate of men; but 'tis
said he was unhappy; you have seen him; how did he look?'
'Oh; beautiful!'
'But did he look happy?'
'Why; I can't say he looked very unhappy; I saw him with two 。 。 。
very fair ladies; but what is it to you whether the man was unhappy
or not? Come; where shall we go … to Joey's? His hugest bear … '
'Oh; I have had enough of bears; I have just been worried by one。'
'The publisher?'
'Yes。'
'Then come to Joey's; three dogs are to be launched at his bear:
as they pin him; imagine him to be the publisher。'
'No;' said I; 'I am good for nothing; I think I shall stroll to
London Bridge。'
'That's too far for me … farewell。'
CHAPTER XL
London Bridge … Why not? … Every heart has its bitters … Wicked
boys … Give me my book … Such a fright … Honour bright。
SO I went to London Bridge; and again took my station on the spot
by the booth where I had stood on the former occasion。 The booth;
however; was empty; neither the apple…woman nor her stall was to be
seen。 I looked over the balustrade upon the river; the tide was
now; as before; rolling beneath the arch with frightful
impetuosity。 As I gazed upon the eddies of the whirlpool; I
thought within myself how soon human life would become extinct
there; a plunge; a convulsive flounder; and all would be over。
When I last stood over that abyss I had felt a kind of impulse … a
fascination; I had resisted it … I did not plunge into it。 At
present I felt a kind of impulse to plunge; but the impulse was of
a different kind; it proceeded from a loathing of life; I looked
wistfully at the eddies … what had I to live for? … what; indeed!
I thought of Brandt and Struensee; and Yeoman Patch … should I
yield to the impulse … why not? My eyes were fixed on the eddies。
All of a sudden I shuddered; I thought I saw heads in the pool;
human bodies wallowing confusedly; eyes turned up to heaven with
hopeless horror; was that water or … ? Where was the impulse now?
I raised my eyes from the pool; I looked no more upon it … I looked
forward; far down the stream in the far distance。 'Ha! what is
that? I thought I saw a kind of Fata Morgana; green meadows;
waving groves; a rustic home; but in the far distance … I stared …
I stared … a Fata Morgana … it was gone。 。 。 。〃
I left the balustrade and walked to the farther end of the bridge;
where I stood for some time contemplating the crowd; I then passed
over to the other side with an intention of returning home; just
half…way over the bridge; in a booth immediately opposite to the
one in which I had formerly beheld her; sat my friend; the old
apple…woman; huddled up behind her stall。
'Well; mother;' said I; 'how are you?' The old woman lifted her
head with a startled look。
'Don't you know me?' said I。
'Yes; I think I do。 Ah; yes;' said she; as her features beamed
with recollection; 'I know you; dear; you are the young lad that
gave me the tanner。 Well; child; got anything to sell?'
'Nothing at all;' said I。
'Bad luck?'
'Yes;' said I; 'bad enough; and ill usage。'
'Ah; I suppose they caught ye; well; child; never mind; better luck
next time; I am glad to see you。'
'Thank you;' said I; sitting down on the stone bench; 'I thought
you had left the bridge … why have you changed your side?'
The old woman shook。
'What is the matter with you;' said I; 'are you ill?'
'No; child; no; only … '
'Only what? Any bad news of your son?'
'No; child; no; nothing about my son。 Only low; child … every
heart has its bitters。'
'That's true;' said I; 'well; I don't want to know your sorrows;
come; where's the book?'
The apple…woman shook more violently than before; bent herself
down; and drew her cloak more closely about her than before。
'Book; child; what book?'
'Why; blessed Mary; to be sure。'
'Oh; that; I ha'n't got it; child … I have lost it; have left it at
home。'
'Lost it;' said I; 'left it at home … what do you mean? Come; let
me have it。'
'I ha'n't got it; child。'
'I believe you have got it under your cloak。'
'Don't tell any one; dear; don't … don't;' and the apple…woman
burst into tears。
'What's the matter with you?' said I; staring at her。
'You want to take my book from me?'
'Not I; I care nothing about it; keep it; if you like; only tell me
what's the matter?'
'Why; all about that book。'
'The book?'
'Yes; they wanted to take it from me。'
'Who did?'
'Why; some wicked boys。 I'll tell you all about it。 Eight or ten
days ago; I sat behind my stall; reading my book; all of a sudden I
felt it snatched from my hand; up I started; and see three rascals
of boys grinning at me; one of them held the book in his hand。
〃What book is this?〃 said he; grinning at it。 〃What do you want
with my book?〃 said I; clutching at it over my stall; 〃give me my
book。〃 〃What do you want a book for?〃 said he; holding it back; 〃I
have a good mind to fling it into the Thames。〃 〃Give me my book;〃
I shrieked; and; snatching at it; I fell over my stall; and all my
fruit was scattered about。 Off ran the boys … off ran the rascal
with my book。 Oh dear; I thought I should have died; up I got;
however; and ran after them as well as I could; I thought of my
fruit; but I thought more of my book。 I left my fruit and ran
after my book。 〃My book! my book!〃 I shrieked; 〃murder! theft!
robbery!〃 I was near being crushed under the wheels of a cart; but
I didn't care … I followed the rascals。 〃Stop them! stop them!〃 I
ran nearly as fast as they … they couldn't run very fast on account
of the crowd。 At last some one stopped the rascal; whereupon he
turned round; and flin