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Read Ebook: The Travelling Companions: A Story in Scenes by Anstey F
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Ebook has 109 lines and 8712 words, and 3 pages
MAUD. Until he met you? At Nuremberg, wasn't it? My! And what was his name? Do tell!
HYP. You must not press me, dear Maud, for I cannot tell that--even to you.
HYP. My feelings towards him were purely potential. I did him the simple justice to believe that his self-abnegation was sincere. But, with your practical, cynical little mind, darling, you are hardly capable of--excuse me for saying so--of appreciating the real value and meaning of such magnanimity!
CULCH. I--ah--appear to have interrupted a highly interesting conversation?
MAUD. Well, we were having a little discussion, and I guess you're in time to give the casting vote--Hypatia, you want to keep just where you are, do you hear? I mean you should listen to Mr. Culchard's opinion.
CULCH. . Which I shall be delighted to give, if you will put me in possession of the--er--facts.
COL. S. Is it? What have they been up to now, eh? Haven't seen a paper for days.
CULCH. . The fascinating Miss Trotter is up above with Van Boodeler, so my services are not required.
CULCH. Will you kindly understand that I am quite capable of estimating the precise period of this sculpture for myself.
THE CIC. S?-s?, Signore. Scultore Bonino da Campiglione. Bellissimo scultore!
MISS T. He's got an idea you find him vurry instructive, Mr. Culchard, and I guess, if you want to disabuse him, you'd better do it in Italian.
THE CIC. . Ah, Signore!
CULCH. Lighting a "fidibus." Splendid thing to drive out mosquitoes.
CULCH. If I didn't, the mosquitoes would come in again.
CULCH. . You'll be grateful to me by-and-by.
MISS T. I GUESS YOU CAN LEAVE THOSE OLD STONES IN PEACE. I DON'T FEEL LIKE STUDYING UP ANYTHING THIS MORNING--IT'S AS MUCH AS EVER I CAN DO NOT TO SCREAM ALOUD!
CULCH. Then shall we just drift about in a gondola all the morning, and--er--perhaps do the Academy later?
CULCH. . Then I must really leave it to you to make a suggestion!
MISS T. Oh, I'll allow you to escort me. It's handy having some one around to carry parcels. And Poppa's bound to drop the balance every time!
CULCH. . That's all I am to her. A beast of burden! And a whole precious morning squandered on this confounded shopping--when I might have been--ah, well!
CULCH. She is--er--vivacious, certainly. You seem rather dull to-night, my dear fellow?
CULCH. Nonsense, you're well enough. And why you should feel low, with all your advantages--in Venice as you are, and in constant intercourse with a mind adorned with every feminine gift--!
PODB. Hul-lo! why, I thought you called her a pedantic prig?
A SOLEMN GENTLEMAN . "Further enhanced by--rook--rook--rook!--a largely-made--rook--ook!--farm-servant, leaning on a ork-ork--ork--ork--or--ook!--basket. Shall I--ork!--go on?"
MISS P. .... "the fig-tree which, by a curious caprice, has golden ribs to all its leaves."--Do you see the ribs, Mr. Podbury?
MISS P. . The ceiling requires careful study. Look at that oblong panel in the centre--with the fiery serpents, which Ruskin finely compares to "winged lampreys." You're not looking in the right way to see them, Mr. Podbury!
MISS P. Surely Tintoret is worth a crick in the neck. Did you observe "the intense delight in biting expressed in their eyes"?
CULCH. I may return your charming candour by admitting that my--er--dismissal will be--well, not wholly without its consolations.
NEXT MORNING; IN THE HALL OF THE GRAND HOTEL DANDOLO.
THE GERMAN PORTER . In von momendt, Matam, I attend to you. You want a larcher ro?m, Sare? You address ze manager, blease. Your dronks, Laties? I haf zem brod down, yes.
ANOTHER LADY. Porter, can you tell me the name of the song that man is singing in the barge there?
PORTER. I gannot dell you ze name--pecause zey sing always ze same ting!
PORTER. You gif zem two franc--and zen zey vill gromble. You haf engage ro?ms? yes. Zat vill pe oal rahit--Your loggage in ze gondola, yes? I haf it taken op.
THE H. M. No, it's left behind at Bologna. My friend's gone back for it. And I say, think it will turn up all right?
PORTER. Eef you register it, and your vrient is zere, you ged it--yes.
PORTER . Oh, you can make a foss, yes, if you like--you ged nossing!
CULCH. . Er--yes--thought I might as well be getting back.
PODB. Then I--I suppose it's all settled--with Miss T.--you know--eh?
CULCH. On precisely similar luck. Miss Trotter and I--er--arrived at the conclusion last night that we were not formed to make each other's happiness.
PODB. Did you, by Jove? Porter, I say, never mind about that luggage. Do you happen to know if Mr. and Miss Trotter--the American gentleman and his daughter--are down yet?
PORTER. Trodders? Led me see, yes, zey ged zeir preakfast early, and start two hours since for Murano and Torcello.
PODB. Torcello? Why, that's where Bob and Miss Prendergast talked of going to-day! Culchard, old fellow, I've changed my mind. Shan't leave to-day, after all. I shall just nip over and see what sort of place Torcello is.
CULCH. Torcello--"the Mother of Venice!" it really seems a pity to go away without having seen it. Do you know, Podbury, I think I'll join you!
PODB. . Come along, then--only look sharp. Sure you don't mind? Miss Trotter will be there, you know!
CULCH. Exactly; and so--I think you said--will the--er--Prendergasts. Just get us a gondola and two rowers, will you, for Torcello. And tell them to row as fast as they can!
+JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING.+
CULCHARD . Did she? I dare say. Few-fee; di-fee-fee-few-few; few-fiddledy-fee-fiddledy-few-few-few-fee. I fancy I'm right in my theory, eh?
CULCH. . What theory? Why, the one I've been explaining to you for the last ten minutes!--that all this harshness of hers lately is really, when you come to analyse it, a decidedly encouraging symptom.
PODB. . Right you are! I'll draw the church first and see if she's there. Hypatia, by Jove! Narrow shave that!
CULCH. I really don't see any necessity--however,-- Feedy-feedy-feedle!
PODB. What is the use of fustling like that? Lul-li-ety!
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