II
So, they ring bell, give orders, pay, depart
Amid profuse acknowledgment from host
Who well knows what may bring the younger back. They light cigar, descend in twenty steps The 'calm acclivity,' inhale—beyond Tobacco's balm—the better smoke of turf And wood fire,—cottages at cookery I' the morning,—reach the main road straitening on 'Twixt wood and wood, two black walls full of night Slow to disperse, though mists thin fast before The advancing foot, and leave the flint-dust fine Each speck with its fire-sparkle. Presently The road's end with the sky's beginning mix In one magnificence of glare, due East, So high the sun rides,—May's the merry month. They slacken pace: the younger stops abrupt. Discards cigar, looks his friend full in face.
"All right; the station comes in view at end; Five minutes from the beech-clump, there you are! I say: let's halt, let's borrow yonder gate Of its two magpies, sit and have a talk! Do let a fellow speak a moment! More I think about and less I like the thing— No, you must let me! Now, be good for once! Ten thousand pounds be done for, dead and damned! We played for love, not hate: yes, hate! I hate Thinking you beg or borrow or reduce To strychnine some poor devil of a lord Licked at Unlimited Loo. I had the cash To lose—you knew that!—lose and none the less Whistle to-morrow: it's not every chap Affords to take his punishment so well! Now, don't be angry with a friend whose fault Is that he thinks—upon my soul, I do— Your head the best head going. Oh, one sees Names in the newspaper—great this, great that, Gladstone, Carlyle, the Laureate:—much I care! Others have their opinion, I keep mine: Which means—by right you ought to have the things I want a head for. Here's a pretty place, My cousin's place, and presently my place. Not yours! I'll tell you how it strikes a man. My cousin's fond of music and of course Plays the piano (it won't be for long!) A brand-new bore she calls a 'semi-grand,' Rosewood and pearl, that blocks the drawing-room. And cost no end of money. Twice a week Down comes Herr Somebody and seats himself. Sets to work teaching—with his teeth on edge— I've watched the rascal. 'Does he play first-rate?' I ask: 'I rather think so,' answers she— 'He's What's-his-Name!'—'Why give you lessons then?'— 'I pay three guineas and the train beside.'— 'This instrument, has he one such at home?'— 'He? Has to practise on a table-top, When he can't hire the proper thing.'—'I see! You've the piano, he the skill, and God The distribution of such gifts.' So here: After your teaching, I shall sit and strum Polkas on this piano of a Place You'd make resound with Rule Britannia!"
"Thanks! I don't say but this pretty cousin's place, Appendaged with your million, tempts my hand As key-board I might touch with some effect."
"Then, why not have obtained the like? House, land, Money, are things obtainable, you see. By clever head-work: ask my father else! You, who teach me, why not have learned, yourself? Played like Herr Somebody with power to thump And flourish and the rest, not bend demure Pointing out blunders—' Sharp, not natural! Permit me—on the black key use the thumb!' There's some fatality, I'm sure! You say 'Marry the cousin, that's your proper move!' And I do use the thumb and hit the sharp: You should have listened to your own head's hint. As I to you! The puzzle's past my power. How you have managed—with such stuff, such means— Not to be rich nor great nor happy man: Of which three good things where's a sign at all? Just look at Dizzy! Come,—what tripped your heels? Instruct a goose that boasts wings and can't fly! I wager I have guessed it!—never found The old solution of the riddle fail! 'Who was the Woman?' I don't ask, but—' Where I' the path of life stood she who tripped you?' "
"Goose
You truly are! I own to fifty years. Why don't I interpose and cut out—you? Compete with five-and-twenty? Age, my boy!"
"Old man, no nonsense!—even to a boy
That's ripe at least for rationality
Rapped into him, as may be mine was, once! I've had my small adventure lesson me Over the knuckles!—likely, I forget The sort of figure youth cuts now and then, Competing with old shoulders but young head Despite the fifty grizzling years!"
"Aha? Then that means—just the bullet in the blade Which brought Dalmatia on the brain,—that, too. Came of a fatal creature? Can't pretend Now for the first time to surmise as much! Make a clean breast! Recount! a secret's safe 'Twixt you, me and the gate-post!"
"—Can't pretend, Neither, to never have surmised your wish! It's no use,—case of unextracted ball— Winces at finger-touching. Let things be!"
"Ah, if you love your love still! I hate mine."