SCENE--_The Lower Hall of the Scuola di San Rocco, Venice.
British Tourists discovered studying the Tintorets on the
walk and ceiling by the aid of RUSKIN, HARE, and BÆDEKER,
from which they read aloud, instructively, to one another.
Miss PRENDERGAST has brought "The Stones of Venice" for the
benefit of her brother and PODBURY. Long self-repression has
reduced PODBURY to that unpleasantly hysterical condition
known as "a fit of the giggles," which, however, has hitherto
escaped detection._
[Illustration: "A Solemn Gentleman, with a troublesome cough, reading
aloud to his Wife."]
_Miss P._ (_standing opposite "The Flight into Egypt" reading_). "One
of the principal figures here is the Donkey." Where _is_ Mr. PODBURY?
(_To P., who reappears, humbly proffering a tin focussing-case._)
Thanks, but you need not have troubled! "The Donkey ... um--um--never
seen--um--um--any of the nobler animals so sublime as this quiet head
of the domestic ass"--(_here BOB digs PODBURY in the ribs, behind
Miss P.'s back_)--"chiefly owing to the grand motion in the nostril,
and writhing in the ears." (_A spasmodic choke from_ PODBURY.) May I
ask what you find so amusing?
_Podb._ (_crimson_). I--I _beg_ your pardon--I don't know _what_ I was
laughing at exactly. (_Aside to BOB._) _Will_ you shut up, confound
you!
_A Stout Lady, close by_ (_reading from HARE_). "The whole symmetry
of it depending on a narrow line of light." (_Dubiously, to her
Daughter._) I don't _quite_--oh yes, I do now--that's it--where
my sunshade is--"the edge of a carpenter's square, which connects
those unused tools" ... h'm--can _you_ make out the "unused tools,"
ETHEL? _I_ can't.... But he says--"The Ruined House is the Jewish
Dispensation." Now I should never have found _that_ out for myself.
(_They pass to another canvas._) "TINTORET denies himself all aid
from the features.... No time allowed for watching the expression" ...
(That reminds me--what _is_ the time by your bracelet, darling?) "No
blood, no stabbing, or cutting ... but an awful substitute for these
in the chiaroscuro." (Ah, yes, indeed! Do you see it, love?--in
the right-hand corner?) "So that our eyes"--(_comfortably_)--"seem
to become bloodshot, and strained with strange horror, and deadly
vision." (Not one o'clock, _really_?--and we've to meet Papa outside
Florian's, for lunch at one-thirty! Dear me, we mustn't stay too long
over this room.)
_A Solemn Gentleman_ (_with a troublesome cough, who is also provided
with HARE, reading aloud to his wife_).... "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?
_His Wife_. Yes, dear, do, _please_! It makes one notice things so
_much_ more!
[_The Solemn Gentleman goes on._
_Miss P._ (_as they reach the staircase_). Now just look at this
Titian, Mr. PODBURY! RUSKIN particularly mentions it. Do note the mean
and petty folds of the drapery, and compare them with those in the
TINTORETS in there.
_Podb._ (_obediently_). Yes, I will,--a--did you mean _now_--and will
it take me long, because--
[_Miss PRENDERGAST sweeps on scornfully._
_Podb._ (_following, with a desperate effort to be intelligent_). They
don't seem to have any Fiammingoes here.
_Miss P._ (_freezingly, over her shoulder_). Any _what_, Mr. PODBURY?
Flamingoes?
_Podb._ (_confidently, having noted down the name at the Accademia on
his shirt-cuff_). No, "Ignoto Fiammingo," don't you know. I like that
chap's style--what I call thoroughly Venetian.
[_Well-informed persons in front overhear and smile._
_Miss P._ (_annoyed_). That is rather strange--because "Ignoto
Fiammingo" happens to be merely the Italian for "an unknown Fleming,"
Mr. PODBURY. [_Collapse of PODBURY._
_Bob_. (_aside to PODBURY_). You great owl, you came a cropper _that_
time! [_He and PODBURY indulge in a subdued bear-fight up the stairs,
after which they enter the Upper Hall in a state of preternatural
solemnity._
_The Solemn G._ Now what _I_ want to see, my dear, is the
ork--ork--angel that RUSKIN thinks TINTORETTO painted the day after he
saw a rook--kic--kic--kic--kingfisher.
[_BOB nudges PODBURY, who resists temptation heroically._
_Miss P._ (_reading_).... "the fig-tree which, by a curious caprice,
has golden ribs to all its leaves."--Do you see the ribs, Mr. PODBURY.
_Podb._ (_feebly_). Y--yes. I _believe_ I do. Think they grew that
sort of fig-tree formerly, or is it--a--_allegorical_?
_Miss P._ (_receiving this query in crushing silence_). 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!
_Podb._ (_faintly_). I--I did see them--_all_ of them, on my honour I
did! But it gives me such a crick in my neck!
_Miss P._ Surely TINTORET is worth a crick in the neck. Did you
observe "the intense delight in biting expressed in their eyes?"
_Bob._ (_frivolously_). _I_ did, 'PATIA--exactly the same look I
observed last night, in a mosquito's eye.
[_PODBURY has to use his handkerchief violently._
_The Stout Lady_. Now, ETHEL, we can just spend ten minutes on the
ceiling--and then we _must_ go. That's evidently JONAH in the small
oval. (_Referring to plan_.) Yes, I thought so,--it _is_ JONAH. RUSKIN
considers "the whale's tongue much too large, unless it is a kind of
crimson cushion for JONAH to kneel upon." Well, why _not_?
_Ethel_. A cushion, Mother? what, _inside_ the whale!
_The Stout Lady_. That we are not _told_, my love--"The submissiveness
of Jonah is well given"--So true--but Papa can't bear being kept
waiting for his lunch--we really ought to go now. [_They go._
_The Solemn G._ (_reading_). "There comes up out of the mist a dark
hand." Have _you_ got the dark hand yet, my dear?
_His Wife_. No, dear, only the mist. At least, there's something that
_may_ be a branch; or a _bird_ of some sort.
_The S.G._ Ha, it's full of suggestion--full of suggestion!
[_He passes on, coughing._
_Miss P._ (_to PODBURY, who is still quivering_). Now notice the end
one--"the Fall of Manna"--not _that_ end; that's "the Fall of _Man_."
RUSKIN points out (_reading_)--"A very sweet incident. Four or five
sheep, instead of pasturing, turn their heads to catch the manna as
it comes down" (_here BOB catches PODBURY's eye_) "or seem to be
licking it off each other's fleeces." (PODBURY _is suddenly convulsed
by inexplicable and untimely mirth._) Really, Mr. PODBURY, this is
_too_ disgraceful! [_She shuts the book sharply and walks away._
_Outside; by the landing-steps._
_Miss P._ BOB, go on and get the gondola ready. I wish to speak to Mr.
PODBURY. (_To PODBURY, after BOB has withdrawn._) Mr. PODBURY,
I cannot tell you how disgusted and disappointed I feel at your
senseless irreverence.
_Podb._ (_penitently_). I--I'm really most awfully sorry--but it came
over me suddenly, and I simply couldn't help myself!
_Miss P._ That is what makes it so very hopeless--after all the pains
I have taken with you! I have been beginning to fear for some time
that you are incorrigible--and to-day is really the _last_ straw!
So it is kinder to let you know at once that you have been tried and
found wanting. I have no alternative but to release you finally from
your vows--I cannot allow you to remain my suitor any longer.
_Podb._ (_humbly_). I was always afraid I shouldn't last the course,
don't you know. I did my best--but it wasn't _in_ me, I suppose. It
was awfully good of you to put up with me so long. And, I say, you
won't mind our being friends still, will you now?
_Miss P._ Of course not. I shall always wish you well, Mr.
PODBURY--only I won't trouble you to accompany me to any more
galleries!
_Podb._ A--thanks. I--I mean, I know I should only be in your way and
all that. And--I'd better say good-bye, Miss PRENDERGAST. You won't
want me in the gondola just now, I'm sure. I can easily get another.
_Miss P._ Well--good-bye then, Mr. PODBURY. I will explain to BOB.
[_She steps into the gondola; BOB raises his eyebrows in
mute interrogation at PODBURY, who shakes his head, and
allows the gondola to go without him._
_Podb._ (_to himself, as the gondola disappears_). So _that's_ over!
Hanged if I don't think I'm sorry, after all. It will be beastly
lonely without anybody to bully me, and she could be awfully nice when
she chose.... Still it _is_ a relief to have got rid of old TINTORET,
and not to have to bother about BELLINI and CIMA and that lot.... How
that beggar CULCHARD will crow when he hears of it! Shan't tell him
anything--if I can help it.... But the worst of getting the sack
is--people are almost _bound_ to spot you ... I think I'll be off
to-morrow. I've had enough of Venice!
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Hard-riding Individual_ (_to Friend, whose Horse has
refused with dire results_). "HELLO! CHARLEY, OLD MAN, HOW ARE TURNIPS
LOOKING DOWN IN THAT NEIGHBOURHOOD?"]
* * * * *