their silver wedding journey v3-第9章

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March　went　away　with　his　head　whirling　in　the　question　whether　he　should
tell　his　wife　at　once　of　Kenby's　presence；　or　leave　her　free　for　the
pleasures　of　Wurzburg；　till　he　could　shape　the　fact　into　some　safe　and
acceptable　form。　　She　met　him　at　the　door　with　her　guide…books；　wraps　and
umbrellas；　and　would　hardly　give　him　time　to　get　on　his　hat　and　coat。

〃Now；　I　want　you　to　avoid　the　Stollers　as　far　as　you　can　see　them。　　This
is　to　be　a　real　wedding…journey　day；　with　no　extraneous　acquaintance　to
bother；　the　more　strangers　the　better。　　Wurzburg　is　richer　than　anything
I　imagined。　　I've　looked　it　all　up；　I've　got　the　plan　of　the　city；　so
that　we　can　easily　find　the　way。　　We'll　walk　first；　and　take　carriages
whenever　we　get　tired。　　We'll　go　to　the　cathedral　at　once；　I　want　a　good
gulp　of　rococo　to　begin　with；　there　wasn't　half　enough　of　it　at　Ansbach。
Isn't　it　strange　how　we've　come　round　to　it？〃

She　referred　to　that　passion　for　the　Gothic　which　they　had　obediently
imbibed　from　Ruskin　in　the　days　of　their　early　Italian　travel　and
courtship；　when　all　the　English…speaking　world　bowed　down　to　him　in
devout　aversion　from　the　renaissance；　and　pious　abhorrence　of　the　rococo。

〃What　biddable　little　things　we　were！〃　　she　went　on；　while　March　was
struggling　to　keep　Kenby　in　the　background　of　his　consciousness。
〃The　rococo　must　have　always　had　a　sneaking　charm　for　us；　when　we　were
pinning　our　faith　to　pointed　arches；　and　yet　I　suppose　we　were　perfectly
sincere。　　Oh；　look　at　that　divinely　ridiculous　Madonna！〃　　They　were　now
making　their　way　out　of　the　crooked　footway　behind　their　hotel　toward　the
street　leading　to　the　cathedral；　and　she　pointed　to　the　Blessed　Virgin
over　the　door　of　some　religious　house；　her　drapery　billowing　about　her
feet；　her　body　twisting　to　show　the　sculptor's　mastery　of　anatomy；　and
the　halo　held　on　her　tossing　head　with　the　help　of　stout　gilt　rays。　　In
fact；　the　Virgin's　whole　figure　was　gilded；　and　so　was　that　of　the　child
in　her　arms。　　〃Isn't　she　delightful？〃

〃I　see　what　you　mean；〃　said　March；　with　a　dubious　glance　at　the　statue；
〃but　I'm　not　sure；　now；　that　I　wouldn't　like　something　quieter　in　my
Madonnas。〃

The　thoroughfare　which　they　emerged　upon；　with　the　cathedral　ending　the
prospective；　was　full　of　the　holiday　so　near　at　hand。　　The　narrow
sidewalks　were　thronged　with　people；　both　soldiers　and　civilians；　and　up
the　middle　of　the　street　detachments　of　military　came　and　went；　halting
the　little　horse…cars　and　the　huge　beer…wagons　which　otherwise　seemed　to
have　the　sole　right　to　the　streets　of　Wurzburg；　they　came　jingling　or
thundering　out　of　the　aide　streets　and　hurled　themselves　round　the
corners　reckless　of　the　passers；　who　escaped　alive　by　flattening
themselves　like　posters　against　the　house　walls。　　There　were　peasants；
men　and　women；　in　the　costume　which　the　unbroken　course　of　their　country
life　had　kept　as　quaint　as　it　was　a　hundred　years　before；　there　were
citizens　in　the　misfits　of　the　latest　German　fashions；　there　were
soldiers　of　all　arms　in　their　vivid　uniforms；　and　from　time　to　time　there
were　pretty　young　girls　in　white　dresses　with　low　necks；　and　bare　arms
gloved　to　the　elbows；　who　were　following　a　holiday　custom　of　the　place　in
going　about　the　streets　in　ball　costume。　　The　shop　windows　were　filled
with　portraits　of　the　Emperor　and　the　Empress；　and　the　Prince…Regent　and
the　ladies　of　his　family；　the　German　and　Bavarian　colors　draped　the
facades　of　the　houses　and　festooned　the　fantastic　Madonnas　posing　above
so　many　portals。　　The　modern　patriotism　included　the　ancient　piety
without　disturbing　it；　the　rococo　city　remained　ecclesiastical　through
its　new　imperialism；　and　kept　the　stamp　given　it　by　the　long　rule　of　the
prince…bishops　under　the　sovereignty　of　its　King　and　the　suzerainty　of
its　Kaiser。

The　Marches　escaped　from　the　present；　when　they　entered　the　cathedral；　as
wholly　as　if　they　had　taken　hold　of　the　horns　of　the　altar；　though　they
were　far　from　literally　doing　this　in　an　interior　so　grandiose。　　There
area　few　rococo　churches　in　Italy；　and　perhaps　more　in　Spain；　which
approach　the　perfection　achieved　by　the　Wurzburg　cathedral　in　the　baroque
style。　　For　once　one　sees　what　that　style　can　do　in　architecture　and
sculpture；　and　whatever　one　may　say　of　the　details；　one　cannot　deny　that
there　is　a　prodigiously　effective　keeping　in　it　all。　　This　interior　came
together；　as　the　decorators　say；　with　a　harmony　that　the　travellers　had
felt　nowhere　in　their　earlier　experience　of　the　rococo。　　It　was；
unimpeachably　perfect　in　its　way；　〃Just；〃　March　murmured　to　his　wife；
〃as　the　social　and　political　and　scientific　scheme　of　the　eighteenth
century　was　perfected　in　certain　times　and　places。　　But　the　odd　thing　is
to　find　the　apotheosis　of　the　rococo　away　up　here　in　Germany。　　I　wonder
how　much　the　prince…bishops　really　liked　it。　　But　they　had　become　rococo；
too！　　Look　at　that　row　of　their　statues　on　both　sides　of　the　nave！　　What
magnificent　swell！　　How　they　abash　this　poor　plain　Christ；　here；　he　would
like　to　get　behind　the　pillar；　he　knows　that　he　could　never　lend　himself
to　the　baroque　style。　　It　expresses　the　eighteenth　century；　though。　　But
how　you　long　for　some　little　hint　of　the　thirteenth；　or　even　the
nineteenth。〃

〃I　don't；〃　she　whispered　back。　　〃I'm　perfectly　wild　with　Wurzburg。
I　like　to　have　a　thing　go　as　far　as　it　can。　　At　Nuremberg　I　wanted　all
the　Gothic　I　could　get；　and　in　Wurzburg　I　want　all　the　baroque　I　can　get。
I　am　consistent。〃

She　kept　on　praising　herself　to　his　disadvantage；　as　women　do；　all　the
way　to　the　Neumunster　Church；　where　they　were　going　to　revere　the　tomb　of
Walther　yon　der　Vogelweide；　not　so　much　for　his　own　sake　as　for
Longfellow's。　　The　older　poet　lies　buried　within；　but　his　monument　is
outside　the　church；　perhaps　for　the　greater　convenience　of　the　sparrows；
which　now　represent　the　birds　he　loved。　　The　cenotaph　is　surmounted　by　a
broad　vase；　and　around　this　are　thickly　perched　the　effigies　of　the
Meistersinger's　feathered　friends；　from　whom　the　canons　of　the　church；　as
Mrs。　March　read　aloud　from　her　Baedeker；　long　ago　directed　his　bequest　to
themselves。　　In　revenge　for　their　lawless　greed　the　defrauded
beneficiaries　choose　to　burlesque　the　affair　by　looking　like　the　four…
and…twenty　blackbirds　when　the　pie　was　opened。

She　consented　to　go　for　a　moment　to　the　Gothic　Marienkapelle　with　her
husband　in　the　revival　of　his　mediaeval　taste；　and　she　was　rewarded
amidst　its　thirteenth…century　sincerity　by　his　recantation。　　〃You　are
right！　　Baroque　is　the　thing　for　Wurzburg；　one　can't　enjoy　Gothic　here
any　more　than　one　could　enjoy　baroque　in　Nuremberg。〃

Reconciled　in　the　rococo；　they　now　called　a　carriage；　and　went　to　visit
the　palace　of　the　prince…bishops　who　had　so　well　known　how　to　make　the
heavenly　take　the　image　and　superscription　of　the　worldly；　and　they　were
jointly　indignant　to　find　it　shut　against　the　public　in　preparation　for
the　imperialities　and　royalties　coining　to　occupy　it。　　They　were　in　time
for　the　noon　guard…mounting；　however；　and　Mrs。　March　said　that　the　way
the　retiring　squad　kicked　their　legs　out　in　the　high　martial　step　of　the
German　soldiers　was　a　perfect　expression　of　the　insolent　militarism　of
their　empire；　and　was　of　itself　enough　to　make　one　thank　Heaven　that　one
was　an　American　and　a　republican。　　She　softened　a　little　toward　their
system　when　it　proved　that　the　garden　of　the　palace　was　still　open；　and
yet　more　when　she　sank　down　upon　a　bench　between　two　marble　groups
representing　the　Rape　of　Proserpine　and　the　Rape　of　Europa。　　They　stood
each　in　a　gravelled　plot；　thickly　overrun　by　a　growth　of　ivy；　and　the
vine　climbed　the　white　naked　limbs　of　the　nymphs；　who　were　present　on　a
pretence　of　gathering　flowers；　but　really　to　pose　at　the　spectators；　and
clad　them　to　the　waist　and　shoulders　with　an　effect　of　modesty　never
meant　by　the　sculptor；　but　not　displeasing。　　There　was　an　old　fountain
near；　its　stone　rim　and　centre　of　rock…work　green　with　immemorial　mould；
and　its　basin　quivering　between　its　water…plants　under　the　soft　fall　of
spray。　　At　a　waft　of　fitful　breeze　some　leaves　of　early　autumn　fell　from
the　trees　overhead　upon　the　elder