the love affairs of a bibliomaniac(藏书癖者的爱情)-第14章
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am gone say unto him who next shall have thee to his own that with his
latest breath an old man blessed thee！
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THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A BIBLIOMANIAC
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THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A BIBLIOMANIAC
VIII
BALLADS AND THEIR MAKERS
One of the most interesting spots in all London to me is Bunhill Fields
cemetery； for herein are the graves of many whose memory I revere。 I
had heard that Joseph Ritson was buried here； and while my sister； Miss
Susan； lingered at the grave of her favorite poet； I took occasion to spy
around among the tombstones in the hope of discovering the last resting…
place of the curious old antiquary whose labors in the field of balladry
have placed me under so great a debt of gratitude to him。
But after I had searched in vain for somewhat more than an hour one
of the keepers of the place told me that in compliance with Ritson's earnest
desire while living； that antiquary's grave was immediately after the
interment of the body levelled down and left to the care of nature； with
no stone to designate its location。 So at the present time no one knows
just where old Ritson's grave is； only that within that vast enclosure where
so many thousand souls sleep their last sleep the dust of the famous
ballad…lover lies fast asleep in the bosom of mother earth。
I have never been able to awaken in Miss Susan any enthusiasm for
balladry。 My worthy sister is of a serious turn of mind； and I have heard
her say a thousand times that convivial songs （which is her name for
balladry） are inspirations； if not actually compositions； of the devil。 In
her younger days Miss Susan performed upon the melodeon with much
discretion； and at one time I indulged the delusive hope that eventually she
would not disdain to join me in the vocal performance of the best ditties of
D'Urfey and his ilk。
If I do say it myself； I had a very pretty voice thirty or forty years ago；
and even at the present time I can deliver the ballad of King Cophetua and
the beggar maid with amazing spirit when I have my friend Judge
Methuen at my side and a bowl of steaming punch between us。 But my
education of Miss Susan ended without being finished。 We two learned
to perform the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens very acceptably； but Miss Susan
abandoned the copartnership when I insisted that we proceed to the
sprightly ditty beginning；
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THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A BIBLIOMANIAC
Life's short hours too fast are hasting Sweet amours
cannot be lasting。
My physician； Dr。 O'Rell； has often told me that he who has a well…
assorted ballad library should never be lonely； for the limitations of
balladly are so broad that within them are to be found performances
adapted to every mood to which humanity is liable。 And； indeed； my
experience confirms the truth of my physician's theory。 It were hard for
me to tell what delight I have had upon a hot and gusty day in a perusal of
the history of Robin Hood； for there is such actuality in those simple
rhymes as to dispel the troublesome environments of the present and
transport me to better times and pleasanter scenes。
Aha！ how many times have I walked with brave Robin in Sherwood
forest！ How many times have Little John and I couched under the
greenwood tree and shared with Friar Tuck the haunch of juicy venison
and the pottle of brown October brew！ And Will Scarlet and I have been
famous friends these many a year； and if Allen…a…Dale were here he would
tell you that I have trolled full many a ballad with him in praise of Maid
Marian's peerless beauty。
Who says that Sherwood is no more and that Robin and his merry men
are gone forever！ Why； only yesternight I walked with them in that
gracious forest and laughed defiance at the doughty sheriff and his craven
menials。 The moonlight twinkled and sifted through the boscage； and the
wind was fresh and cool。 Right merrily we sang； and I doubt not we
should have sung the whole night through had not my sister； Miss Susan；
come tapping at my door； saying that I had waked her parrot and would do
well to cease my uproar and go to sleep。
Judge Methuen has a copy of Bishop Percy's ‘‘Reliques of Ancient
English Poetry'' that he prizes highly。 It is the first edition of this noble
work； and was originally presented by Percy to Dr。 Birch of the British
Museum。 The Judge found these three volumes exposed for sale in a
London book stall； and he comprehended them without delaya great
bargain； you will admit； when I tell you that they cost the Judge but three
shillings！ How came these precious volumes into that book stall I shall
not presume to say。
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THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF A BIBLIOMANIAC
Strange indeed are the vicissitudes which befall books； stranger even
than the happenings in human life。 All men are not as considerate of
books as I am； I wish they were。 Many times I have felt the deepest
compassion for noble volumes in the possession of persons wholly
incapable of appreciating them。 The helpless books seemed to appeal to
me to rescue them； and too many times I have been tempted to snatch
them from their inhospitable shelves； and march them away to a pleasant
refuge beneath my own comfortable roof tree。
Too few people seem to realize that books have feelings。 But if I
know one thing better than another I know this； that my books know me
and love me。 When of a morning I awaken I cast my eyes about my
room to see how fare my beloved treasures； and as I cry cheerily to them；
‘‘Good…day to you； sweet friends！'' how lovingly they beam upon me； and
how glad they are that my repose has been unbroken。 When I take them
from their places； how tenderly do they respond to the caresses of my
hands； and with what exultation do they respond unto my call for
sympathy！
Laughter for my gayer moods； distraction for my cares； solace for my
griefs； gossip for my idler moments； tears for my sorrows； counsel for my
doubts； and assurance against my fearsthese things my books give me
with a promptness and a certainty and a cheerfulness which are more than
human； so that I were less than human did I not love these comforters and
bear eternal gratitude to them。
Judge Methuen read me once a little poem which I fancy mightily； it is
entitled ‘‘Winfreda；'' and you will find it in your Percy； if you have one。
The last stanza； as I recall it； runs in this wise：
And when by envy time transported Shall seek to rob us of our
joys； You'll in our girls again be courted And I'll go
