Love's Comedy Part 19

GULDSTAD [approaching].

You seem to play the part of serpent in This paradise of lovers.

FALK.

O, the pips Upon the tree of knowledge are too green To be a lure for anybody's lips.

[To LIND, who comes in from the right.

Ha, Lind!

LIND.

In heaven's name, who's been ravaging Our sanctum? There the lamp lies dashed To pieces, curtain dragged to floor, pen smashed, And on the mantelpiece the ink pot splashed--

FALK [clapping him on the shoulder].

This wreck's the first announcement of my spring; No more behind drawn curtains I will sit, Making pen poetry with lamp alit; My dull domestic poetising's done, I'll walk by day, and glory in the sun: My spring is come, my soul has broken free, Action henceforth shall be my poetry.

LIND.

Make poetry of what you please for me; But how if Mrs. Halm should take amiss Your breaking of her furniture to pieces?

FALK.

What!--she, who lays her daughters and her nieces Upon the altar of her boarders' bliss,-- She frown at such a bagatelle as this?

LIND [angrily].

It's utterly outrageous and unfair, And compromises me as well as you!

But that's her business, settle it with her.

The lamp was mine, tho', shade and burner too--

FALK.

Tut, on that head, I've no account to render; You have G.o.d's summer sunshine in its splendour,-- What would you with the lamp?

LIND.

You are grotesque; You utterly forget that summer pa.s.ses; If I'm to make a figure in my cla.s.ses At Christmas I must buckle to my desk.

FALK [staring at him].

What, you look forward?

LIND.

To be sure I do, The examination's amply worth it too.

FALK.

Ah but--you 'only sit and live'--remember!

Drunk with the moment, you demand no more-- Not even a modest third-cla.s.s next December.

You've caught the bird of Fortune fair and fleet, You feel as if the world with all its store Were scattered in profusion at your feet.

LIND.

Those were my words; they must be understood, Of course, _c.u.m grano salis_--

FALK.

Very good!

LIND.

In the forenoons I well enjoy my bliss; That I am quite resolved on--

FALK.

Daring man!

LIND.

I have my round of visits to the clan; Time will run anyhow to waste in this; But any further dislocation of My study-plan I strongly disapprove.

FALK.

A week ago, however, you were bent On going out into G.o.d's world with song.

LIND.

Yes, but I thought the tour a little long; The fourteen days might well be better spent.

FALK.

Nay, but you had another argument For staying; how the lovely dale for you Was mountain air and winged warble too.

LIND.

Yes, to be sure, this air is unalloyed; But all its benefits may be enjoyed Over one's book without the slightest bar.

FALK.

But it was just the Book which failed, you see, As Jacob's ladder--

LIND.

How perverse you are!

That is what people say when they are free--

FALK [looking at him and folding his hands in silent amazement].

Thou also, Brutus!

LIND [with a shade of confusion and annoyance].

Pray remember, do!

That I have other duties now than you; I have my _fiancee_. Every plighted pair, Those of prolonged experience not excepted,-- Whose evidence you would not wish rejected,-- Will tell you, that if two are bound to fare Through life together, they must--

FALK.

Prithee spare The comment; who supplied it?

LIND.

Well, we'll say Stiver, he's honest surely; and Miss Jay, Who has such very great experience here, She says--

FALK.

Well, but the Parson and his--dear?

LIND.

Yes, they're remarkable. There broods above Them such placidity, such quietude,-- Conceive, she can't remember being wooed, Has quite forgotten what is meant by love.

FALK.

Ah yes, when one has slumber'd over long, The birds of memory refuse their song.

[Laying his hand on LIND's shoulder, with an ironical look.

You, Lind, slept sound last night, I guarantee?