FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117  
118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   >>   >|  
PRATTLE. Wouldn't understand? Why, what have you got? DE REVES. Oh, one of those things.... You wouldn't understand. PRATTLE. Of course I'd understand. Let's have a look. (_The_ POET _walks toward_ PRATTLE _and the screen. He protests no further._ PRATTLE _looks round the corner of the screen._) An altar. DE REVES. (_removing the screen altogether_). That is all. What do you make of it? (_An altar of Greek design, shaped like a pedestal, is revealed. Papers litter the floor all about it._) PRATTLE. I say--you always were an untidy devil. DE REVES. Well, what do you make of it? PRATTLE. It reminds me of your room at Eton. DE REVES. My room at Eton? PRATTLE. Yes, you always had papers all over your floor. DE REVES. Oh, yes-- PRATTLE. And what are these? DE REVES. All these are poems; and this is my altar to Fame. PRATTLE. To Fame? DE REVES. The same that Homer knew. PRATTLE. Good Lord! DE REVES. Keats never saw her. Shelley died too young. She came late at the best of times, now scarcely ever. PRATTLE. But, my dear fellow, you don't mean that you think there really is such a person? DE REVES. I offer all my songs to her. PRATTLE. But you don't mean you think you could actually _see_ Fame? DE REVES. We poets personify abstract things, and not poets only but sculptors and painters too. All the great things of the world are those abstract things. PRATTLE. But what I mean is they're not really there, like you or me. DE REVES. To us these things are more real than men, they outlive generations, they watch the passing of Kingdoms: we go by them like dust; they are still here, unmoved, unsmiling. PRATTLE. But, but, you can't think that you could _see_ Fame, you don't expect to _see_ it. DE REVES. Not to me. Never to me. She of the golden trumpet and Greek dress will never appear to me.... We all have our dreams. PRATTLE. I say--what have you been doing all day? DE REVES. I? Oh, only writing a sonnet. PRATTLE. Is it a long one? DE REVES. Not very. PRATTLE. About how long is it? DE REVES. About fourteen lines. PRATTLE (_impressively_). I tell you what it is. DE REVES. Yes? PRATTLE. I tell you what. You've been overworking yourself. I once got like that on board the Sandhurst, working for the passing-out exam. I got so bad that I could have seen anything. DE REVES. Seen anything? PRATTLE. Lord, yes: horned pigs, snakes with wings, anything, one
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117  
118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

PRATTLE

 

things

 

screen

 
understand
 
passing
 

abstract

 
unmoved
 

outlive

 

Kingdoms


generations

 
Sandhurst
 

working

 

overworking

 

snakes

 

horned

 
impressively
 

trumpet

 

golden


expect

 
dreams
 

fourteen

 
writing
 

sonnet

 

unsmiling

 

design

 

shaped

 

altogether


corner
 

removing

 

pedestal

 

revealed

 

untidy

 

Papers

 

litter

 

wouldn

 

Wouldn


protests

 

scarcely

 

fellow

 

personify

 

sculptors

 

person

 

papers

 

reminds

 

Shelley


painters