The Plastic Age, Percy Marks [top 10 books of all time TXT] 📗

Whose

Advice He Valued. He Called On Professor Henley Twice,  Intending To Make

A Clean Breast Of His Transgressions. Henley,  He Knew,  Would Not Lecture

Him,  But When He Found Himself Facing Him,  He Could Not Bring Himself To

Confession; He Was Afraid Of Losing Henley's Respect.

 

Finally,  In Desperation,  He Talked To Norry,  Not Because He Thought

Norry Could Help Him But Because He Had To Talk To Somebody And Norry

Already Knew The Worst. They Went Walking Far Out Into The Country,  Idly

Discussing Campus Gossip Or Pausing To Revel In The Beauty Of The Night,

The Clear,  Clean Sky,  The Pale Moon,  The Fireflies Sparkling Suddenly

Over The Meadows Or Even To The Tree-Tops. Weary From Their Long Walk,

They Sat Down On A Stump,  And Hugh Let The Dam Of His Emotion Break.

 

"Norry," He Began Intensely,  "I'm In Hell--In Hell. It's A Week Since

Prom,  And I Haven't Had A Line From Cynthia. I Haven't Dared Write To

Her."

 

"Why Not?"

 

"She--She--Oh,  Damn It!--She Told Me Before She Left That Everything Was

All Off. That's Why She Left Early. She Said That We Didn't Love Each

Other,  That All We Felt Was Sex Attraction. I Don't Know Whether She's

Right Or Not,  But I Miss Her Like The Devil. I--I Feel Empty,  Sort Of

Hollow Inside,  As If Everything Had Suddenly Been Poured Out Of Me--And

There's Nothing To Take Its Place. I Was Full Of Cynthia,  You See,  And

Now There's No Cynthia. There's Nothing Left But--Oh,  God,  Norry,  I'm

Ashamed Of Myself. I Feel--Dirty." The Last Word Was Hardly Audible.

 

Norry Touched His Arm. "I Know,  Hugh,  And I'm Awfully Sorry. I Think,

Though,  That Cynthia Was Right. I Know Her Better Than You Do. She's An

Awfully Good Kid But Not Your Kind At All; I Think I Feel As Badly

Almost As You Do About It." He Paused A Moment And Then Said Simply,  "I

Was So Proud Of You,  Hugh."

 

"Don't!" Hugh Exclaimed. "I Want To Kill Myself When You Say Things Like

That."

 

"You Don't Understand. I Know That You Don't Understand. I've Been Doing

A Lot Of Thinking Since Prom,  Too. I've Thought Over A Lot Of Things

That You've Said To Me--About Me,  I Mean. Why,  Hugh,  You Think I'm Not

Human. I Don't Believe You Think I Have Passions Like The Rest Of You.

Well,  I Do,  And Sometimes It's--It's Awful. I'm Telling You That So

You'll Understand That I Know How You Feel. But Love's Beautiful To Me,

Hugh,  The Most Wonderful Thing In The World. I Was In Love With A Girl

Once--And I Know. She Didn't Give A Hang For Me; She Thought I Was A

Baby. I Suffered Awfully; But I Know That My Love Was Beautiful,  As

Beautiful As--" He Looked Around For A Simile--"As To-Night. I Think

It's Because Of That That I Hate Mugging And Petting And That Sort Of

Thing. I Don't Want Beauty Debased. I Want To Fight When Orchestras Jazz

Famous Arias. Well,  Petting Is Jazzing Love; And I Hate It. Do You See

What I Mean?"

 

Hugh Looked At Him Wonderingly. He Didn't Know This Norry At All. "Yes,"

He Said Slowly; "Yes,  I See What You Mean; I Think I Do,  Anyway. But

What Has It To Do With Me?"

 

"Well,  I Know Most Of The Fellows Pet And All That Sort Of Thing,  And

They Don't Think Anything About It. But You're Different; You Love

Beautiful Things As Much As I Do. You Told Me Yourself That Jimmie

Henley Said Last Year That You Were Gifted. You Can Write And Sing And

Run,  But I've Just Realized That You Aren't Proud Of Those Things At

All; You Just Take Them For Granted. And You're Ashamed That You Write

Poetry.Pends Sleepless Nights In Tossing On His Bed;

  At Times,  When He By Courtesy Is Led

  To Address A Lady,  Speaks Another Name,

  Then Stands For Minutes,  Sunk In Helpless Shame.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. I Am Glad To Hear It.

 

_Chamberlain_. His Majesty's Sorrow Has Forbidden The Festival.

 

_The Two Maids_. It Is Only Right.

 

_A Voice Behind The Scenes_. Follow Me.

 

_Chamberlain_ (_Listening_). Ah,  His Majesty Approaches. Go,  And

Attend To Your Duties. (_Exeunt The Two Maids. Enter The King,  Wearing

A Dress Indicative Of Remorse; The Clown,  And The Portress_.)

 

_Chamberlain_ (_Observing The King_). A Beautiful Figure Charms In

Whatever State. Thus,  His Majesty Is Pleasing Even In His Sorrow. For

 

  All Ornament Is Laid Aside; He Wears

    One Golden Bracelet On His Wasted Arm;

  His Lip Is Scorched By Sighs; And Sleepless Cares

    Redden His Eyes. Yet All Can Work No Harm

  On That Magnificent Beauty,  Wasting,  But

  Gaining In Brilliance,  Like A Diamond Cut.

 

_Mishrakeshi_ (_Observing The King_). No Wonder Shakuntala Pines For

Him,  Even Though He Dishonoured Her By His Rejection Of Her.

 

_King_ (_Walks About Slowly,  Sunk In Thought_).

 

  Alas! My Smitten Heart,  That Once Lay Sleeping,

    Heard In Its Dreams My Fawn-Eyed Love's Laments,

  And Wakened Now,  Awakens But To Weeping,

    To Bitter Grief,  And Tears Of Penitence.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. That Is The Poor Girl's Fate.

 

_Clown_ (_To Himself_). He Has Got His Shakuntala-Sickness Again. I

Wish I Knew How To Cure Him.

 

_Chamberlain (Advancing)_. Victory To Your Majesty. I Have Examined

The Garden. Your Majesty May Visit Its Retreats.

 

_King_. Vetravati,  Tell The Minister Pishuna In My Name That A

Sleepless Night Prevents Me From Mounting The Throne Of Judgment. He

Is To Investigate The Citizens' Business And Send Me A Memorandum.

 

_Portress_. Yes,  Your Majesty. _(Exit.)_

 

_King_. And You,  Parvatayana,  Return To Your Post Of Duty.

 

_Chamberlain_. Yes,  Your Majesty. (_Exit_.)

 

_Clown_. You Have Got Rid Of The Vermin. Now Amuse Yourself In This

Garden. It Is Delightful With The Passing Of The Cold Weather.

 

_King_ (_Sighing_). My Friend,  The Proverb Makes No Mistake.

Misfortune Finds The Weak Spot. See!

 

  No Sooner Did The Darkness Lift

    That Clouded Memory's Power,

  Than The God Of Love Prepared His Bow

    And Shot The Mango-Flower.

 

  No Sooner Did The Ring Recall

    My Banished Maiden Dear,

  No Sooner Do I Vainly Weep

    For Her,  Than Spring Is Here.

 

_Clown_. Wait A Minute,  Man. I Will Destroy Love's Arrow With My

Stick. (_He Raises His Stick And Strikes At The Mango Branch_.)

 

_King_ (_Smiling_). Enough! I See Your Pious Power. My Friend,  Where

Shall I Sit Now To Comfort My Eyes With The Vines? They Remind Me

Somehow Of Her.

 

_Clown_. Well,  You Told One Of The Maids,  The Clever Painter,  That

You Would Spend This Hour In The Bower Of Spring-Creepers. And You

Asked Her To Bring You There The Picture Of The Lady Shakuntala Which

You Painted On A Tablet.

 

_King_. It Is My Only Consolation. Lead The Way To The Bower Of

Spring-Creepers.

 

_Clown_. Follow Me. (_They Walk About_. Mishrakeshi _Follows_.) Here

Is The Bower Of Spring-Creepers,  With Its Jewelled Benches. Its

Loneliness Seems To Bid You A Silent Welcome. Let Us Go In And Sit

Down. (_They Do So_.)

 

_Mishrakeshi_. I Will Hide Among The Vines And See The Dear Girl's

Picture. Then I Shall Be Able To Tell Her How Deep Her Husband's Love

Is. (_She Hides_.)

 

_King_ (_Sighing_). I Remember It All Now,  My Friend. I Told You How I

First Met Shakuntala. It Is True,  You Were Not With Me When I Rejected

Her. But I Had Told You Of Her At The First. Had You Forgotten,  As I

Did?

 

_Mishrakeshi_. This Shows That A King Should Not Be Separated A Single

Moment From Some Intimate Friend.

 

_Clown_. No,  I Didn't Forget. But When You Had Told The Whole Story,

You Said It Was A Joke And There Was Nothing In It. And I Was Fool

Enough To Believe You. No,  This Is The Work Of Fate.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. It Must Be.

 

_King_ (_After Meditating A Momgh To Believe You. No,  This Is The Work Oent_). Help Me,  My Friend.

 

_Clown_. But,  Man,  This Isn't Right At All. A Good Man Never Lets

Grief Get The Upper Hand. The Mountains Are Calm Even In A Tempest.

 

_King_. My Friend,  I Am Quite Forlorn. I Keep Thinking Of Her Pitiful

State When I Rejected Her. Thus:

 

  When I Denied Her,  Then She Tried

  To Join Her People. "Stay," One Cried,

  Her Father's Representative.

  She Stopped,  She Turned,  She Could But Give

  A Tear-Dimmed Glance To Heartless Me--

  That Arrow Burns Me Poisonously.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. How His Fault Distresses Him!

 

_Clown_. Well,  I Don't Doubt It Was Some Heavenly Being That Carried

Her Away.

 

_King_. Who Else Would Dare To Touch A Faithful Wife? Her Friends Told

Me That Menaka Was Her Mother. My Heart Persuades Me That It Was

She,  Or Companions Of Hers,  Who Carried Shakuntala Away.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. His Madness Was Wonderful,  Not His Awakening Reason.

 

_Clown_. But In That Case,  You Ought To Take Heart. You Will Meet Her

Again.

 

_King_. How So?

 

_Clown_. Why,  A Mother Or A Father Cannot Long Bear To See A Daughter

Separated From Her Husband.

 

_King_. My Friend,

 

  And Was It Phantom,  Madness,  Dream,

    Or Fatal Retribution Stern?

  My Hopes Fell Down A Precipice

    And Never,  Never Will Return.

 

_Clown_. Don't Talk That Way. Why,  The Ring Shows That Incredible

Meetings Do Happen.

 

_King_ (_Looking At The Ring_). This Ring Deserves Pity. It Has Fallen

From A Heaven Hard To Earn.

 

  Your Virtue,  Ring,  Like Mine,

    Is Proved To Be But Small;

  Her Pink-Nailed Finger Sweet

    You Clasped. How Could You Fall?

 

_Mishrakeshi_. If It Were Worn On Any Other Hand,  It Would Deserve

Pity. My Dear Girl,  You Are Far Away. I Am The Only One To Hear These

Delightful Words.

 

_Clown_. Tell Me How You Put The Ring On Her Finger.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. He Speaks As If Prompted By My Curiosity.

 

_King_. Listen,  My Friend. When I Left The Pious Grove For The City,

My Darling Wept And Said: "But How Long Will You Remember Us,  Dear?"

 

_Clown_. And Then You Said----

 

_King_. Then I Put This Engraved Ring On Her Finger,  And Said To

Her----

 

_Clown_. Well,  What?

 

_King_.

 

  Count Every Day One Letter Of My Name;

    Before You Reach The End,  Dear,

  Will Come To Lead You To My Palace Halls

    A Guide Whom I Shall Send,  Dear.

 

Then,  Through My Madness,  It Fell Out Cruelly. _Mishrakeshi_. It Was

Too Charming An Agreement To Be Frustrated By Fate.

 

_Clown_. But How Did It Get Into A Carp's Mouth,  As If It Had Been A

Fish-Hook?

 

_King_. While She Was Worshipping The Ganges At Shachitirtha,  It Fell.

 

_Clown_. I See.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. That Is Why The Virtuous King Doubted His Marriage With

Poor Shakuntala. Yet Such Love Does Not Ask For A Token. How Could It

Have Been?

 

_King_. Well,  I Can Only Reproach This Ring.

 

_Clown_ (_Smiling_). And I Will Reproach This Stick Of Mine. Why Are

You Crooked When I Am Straight?

 

_King_ (_Not Hearing Him_).

 

  How Could You Fail To Linger

  On Her Soft,  Tapering Finger,

  And In The Water Fall?

 

And Yet

 

  Things Lifeless Know Not Beauty;

  But I--I Scorned My Duty,

  The Sweetest Task Of All.

 

_Mishrakeshi_. He Has Given The Answer Which I Had Ready.

 

_Clown_. But That Is No Reason Why I Should Starve To Death.

 

_King_ (_Not Heeding_). O My Darling,  My Heart Burns With Repentance

Because I Abandoned You Without Reason. Take Pity On Me. Let Me See

You Again. (_Enter A Maid With A Tablet_.)

 

_Maid_. Your Majesty,  Here Is The Picture Of Our Lady. (_She Produces

The Tablet_.)

 

_King_ (_Gazing At It_). It Is A Beautiful Picture. See!

 

  A Graceful Arch Of Brows Above Great Eyes;

  Lips Bathed In Darting,  Smiling Light That Flies

  Reflected From White Teeth; A Mouth As Red

  As Red Karkandhu-Fruit; Love's Brightness Shed

  O'er All Her Face In Bursts Of Liquid Charm--

  The Picture Speaks,  With Living Beauty Warm.

 

_Clown_ (_Looking At It_). The Sketch Is Full Of Sweet Meaning. My

Eyes Seem To Stumble Over Its Uneven Surface. What More Can I Say? I

Expect To See It Come To Lietch Is Full Of Sweet Meaning. My

Eyes Seem To Stumble O "Carver! Carver!"

He Saw Nothing But Calvert A Yard Ahead Of Him. He Knew Nothing But That

He Had To Make Up That Yard. Down The Track They Sped,  Their Breath

Bursting From Them,  Their Hands Clenched,  Their Faces Grotesquely

Distorted,  Their Legs Driving Them Splendidly On.

 

Hugh Was Gaining; That Yard Was Closing. He Sensed It Rather Than Saw

It. He Saw Nothing Now,  Not Even Calvert. Blinded With Effort,  His Lungs

Aching,  His Heart Pounding Terribly,  He Fought On,  Mechanically Keeping

Between The Two White Lines. Ten Yards From The Tape He Was Almost

Abreast Of Calvert. He Saw The Tape Through A Red Haze; He Made A Final

Valiant Leap For It--But He Never Touched It: Calvert's Chest Had

Broken It A Tiny Fraction Of A Second Before.

 

Hugh Almost Collapsed After The Race. Two Men Caught Him And Carried

Him,  Despite His Protests,  To The Dressing-Room. At First He Was Aware

Only Of His Overwhelming Weariness. Something Very Important Had

Happened. It Was