CHAPTER TWELVE

eoverroughergroundbyherside.ShehadbeenleftmotherlessattheageoffourandtheParkwasvast. "Oneneverseemedabletogetoutofit,"shelaughed.Ofcoursetherewasthelibrary,anddearMr.Jones,andnotionsaboutthings."Iusedtostrayintothekitchenandsituponthebutler'sknees,"shelaughed,sadlythough. Jacobthoughtthatifhehadbeentherehewouldhavesavedherforshehadbeenexposedtogreatdangers,hefelt,and,hethoughttohimself,"Peoplewouldn'tunderstandawomantalkingasshetalks." Shemadelittleoftheroughnessofthehillandworebreeches,hesaw,underhershortskirts. "WomenlikeFannyElmerdon't,"hethought."What's-her-nameCarslakedidn'tyettheypretend…" Mrs.Williamssaidthingsstraightout.Hewassurprisedbyhisownknowledgeoftherulesofbehaviourhowmuchmorecanbesaidthanonethoughthowopenonecanbewithawomanandhowlittlehehadknownhimselfbefore. Evanjoinedthemontheroadandastheydrovealonguphillanddownhill(forGreeceisinastateofeffervescence,yetastonishinglyclean-cut,atreelessland,whereyouseethegroundbetweentheblades,eachhillcutandshapedandoutlinedasoftenasnotagainstsparklingdeepbluewaters,islandswhiteassandfloatingonthehorizon,occasionalgrovesofpalmtreesstandinginthevalleys,whicharescatteredwithblackgoats,spottedwithlittleolivetreesandsometimeshavewhitehollows,rayedandcriss-crossed,intheirflanks),astheydroveuphillanddownhescowledinthecornerofthecarriage,withhispawsotightlyclosedthattheskinwasstretchedbetweentheknucklesandthelittlehairsstoodupright.Sandrarodeopposite,dominant,likeaVictorypreparedtoflingintotheair. "Heartless!"thoughtEvan(whichwasuntrue). "Brainless!"hesuspected(andthatwasnottrueeither)."Still…!"Heenviedher. WhenbedtimecamethedifficultywastowritetoBonamy,Jacobfound.YethehadseenSalamis,andMarathoninthedistance.PooroldBonamy!Notherewassomethingqueeraboutit.HecouldnotwritetoBonamy. "IshallgotoAthensallthesame,"heresolved,lookingveryset,withthishookdragginginhisside. TheWilliamseshadalreadybeentoAthens. Athensisstillquitecapableofstrikingayoungmanastheoddestcombination,themostincongruousassortment.Nowitissuburbannowimmortal.Nowcheapcontinentaljewelleryislaiduponplushtrays.Nowthestatelywomanstandsnaked,saveforawaveofdraperyabovetheknee.Noformcanhesetonhissensationsashestrolls,oneblazingafternoon,alongtheParisianboulevardandskipsoutofthewayoftheroyallandauwhich,lookingindescribablyramshackle,rattlesalongthepittedroadway,salutedbycitizensofbothsexescheaplydressedinbowlerhatsandcontinentalcostumesthoughashepherdinkilt,cap,andgaitersverynearlydriveshisherdofgoatsbetweentheroyalwheelsandallthetimetheAcropolissurgesintotheair,raisesitselfabovethetown,likealargeimmobilewavewiththeyellowcolumnsoftheParthenonfirmlyplanteduponit. TheyellowcolumnsoftheParthenonaretobeseenatallhoursofthedayfirmlyplantedupontheAcropolisthoughatsunset,whentheshipsinthePiraeusfiretheirguns,abellrings,amaninuniform(thewaistcoatunbuttoned)appearsandthewomenrolluptheblackstockingswhichtheyareknittingintheshadowofthecolumns,calltothechildren,andtroopoffdownthehillbacktotheirhouses. Theretheyareagain,thepillars,thepediment,theTempleofVictoryandtheErechtheum,setonatawnyrockcleftwithshadows,directlyyouunlatchyourshuttersinthemorningand,leaningout,heartheclatter,theclamour,thewhipcrackinginthestreetbelow.Theretheyare. Theextremedefinitenesswithwhichtheystand,nowabrilliantwhite,againyellow,andinsomelightsred,imposesideasofdurability,oftheemergencethroughtheearthofsomespiritualenergyelsewheredissipatedineleganttrifles.Butthisdurabilityexistsquiteindependentlyofouradmiration.Althoughthebeautyissufficientlyhumanetoweakenus,tostirthedeepdepositofmud—memories,abandonments,regrets,sentimentaldevotions—theParthenonisseparatefromallthatandifyouconsiderhowithasstoodoutallnight,forcenturies,youbegintoconnecttheblaze(atmiddaytheglareisdazzlingandthefriezealmostinvisible)withtheideathatperhapsitisbeautyalonethatisimmortal. Addedtothis,comparedwiththeblisteredstucco,thenewlovesongsraspedouttothestrumofguitarandgramophone,andthemobileyetinsignificantfacesofthestreet,theParthenonisreallyastonishinginitssilentcomposurewhichissovigorousthat,farfrombeingdecayed,theParthenonappears,onthecontrary,likelytooutlasttheentireworld. "AndtheGreeks,likesensiblemen,neverbotheredtofinishthebacksoftheirstatues,"saidJacob,shadinghiseyesandobservingthatthesideofthefigurewhichisturnedawayfromviewisleftintherough. Henotedtheslightirregularityinthelineofthestepswhich"theartisticsenseoftheGreekspreferredtomathematicalaccuracy,"hereadinhisguide-book. HestoodontheexactspotwherethegreatstatueofAthenausedtostand,andidentifiedthemorefamouslandmarksofthescenebeneath. Inshorthewasaccurateanddiligentbutprofoundlymorose.Moreoverhewaspesteredbyguides.ThiswasonMonday. ButonWednesdayhewroteatelegramtoBonamy,tellinghimtocomeatonce.Andthenhecrumpleditinhishandandthrewitinthegutter. "Foronethinghewouldn'tcome,"hethought."AndthenIdaresaythissortofthingwearsoff.""Thissortofthing"beingthatuneasy,painfulfeeling,somethinglikeselfishness—onewishesalmostthatthethingwouldstop—itisgettingmoreandmorebeyondwhatispossible—"IfitgoesonmuchlongerIshan'tbeabletocopewithit—butifsomeoneelsewereseeingitatthesametime—BonamyisstuffedinhisroominLincoln'sInn—oh,Isay,damnitall,Isay,"—thesightofHymettus,Pentelicus,Lycabettusononeside,andtheseaontheother,asonestandsintheParthenonatsunset,theskypinkfeathered,theplainallcolours,themarbletawnyinone'seyes,isthusoppressive.LuckilyJacobhadlittlesenseofpersonalassociationheseldomthoughtofPlatoorSocratesinthefleshontheotherhandhisfeelingforarchitecturewasverystronghepreferredstatuestopicturesandhewasbeginningtothinkagreatdealabouttheproblemsofcivilization,whichweresolved,ofcourse,soveryremarkablybytheancientGreeks,thoughtheirsolutionisnohelptous.ThenthehookgaveagreattuginhissideashelayinbedonWednesdaynightandheturnedoverwithadesperatesortoftumble,rememberingSandraWentworthWilliamswithwhomhewasinlove. NextdayheclimbedPentelicus. ThedayafterhewentuptotheAcropolis.Thehourwasearlytheplacealmostdesertedandpossiblytherewasthunderintheair.ButthesunstruckfullupontheAcropolis. Jacob'sintentionwastositdownandread,and,findingadrumofmarbleconvenientlyplaced,fromwhichMarathoncouldbeseen,andyetitwasintheshade,whiletheErechtheumblazedwhiteinfrontofhim,therehesat.Andafterreadingapageheputhisthumbinhisbook.Whynotrulecountriesinthewaytheyshouldberuled?Andhereadagain. NodoubthispositionthereoverlookingMarathonsomehowraisedhisspirits.Oritmayhavebeenthataslowcapaciousbrainhasthesemomentsofflowering.Orhehad,insensibly,whilehewasabroad,gotintothewayofthinkingaboutpolitics. Andthenlookingupandseeingthesharpoutline,hismeditationsweregivenanextraordinaryedgeGreecewasovertheParthenoninruinsyettherehewas. (Ladieswithgreenandwhiteumbrellaspassedthroughthecourtyard—FrenchladiesontheirwaytojointheirhusbandsinConstantinople.) Jacobreadonagain.Andlayingthebookonthegroundhebegan,asifinspiredbywhathehadread,towriteanoteupontheimportanceofhistory—upondemocracy—oneofthosescribblesuponwhichtheworkofalifetimemaybebasedoragain,itfallsoutofabooktwentyyearslater,andonecan'trememberawordofit.Itisalittlepainful.Ithadbetterbeburnt. JacobwrotebegantodrawastraightnosewhenalltheFrenchladiesopeningandshuttingtheirumbrellasjustbeneathhimexclaimed,lookingatthesky,thatonedidnotknowwhattoexpect—rainorfineweather? JacobgotupandstrolledacrosstotheErechtheum.Therearestillseveralwomenstandingthereholdingtheroofontheirheads.Jacobstraightenedhimselfslightlyforstabilityandbalanceaffectthebodyfirst.Thesestatuesannulledthingsso!Hestaredatthem,thenturned,andtherewasMadameLucienGraveperchedonablockofmarblewithherkodakpointedathishead.Ofcourseshejumpeddown,inspiteofherage,herfigure,andhertightboots—having,nowthatherdaughterwasmarried,lapsedwithaluxuriousabandonment,grandenoughinitsway,intothefleshygrotesqueshejumpeddown,butnotbeforeJacobhadseenher. "Damnthesewomen—damnthesewomen!"hethought.AndhewenttofetchhisbookwhichhehadleftlyingonthegroundintheParthenon. "Howtheyspoilthings,"hemurmured,leaningagainstoneofthepillars,pressinghisbooktightbetweenhisarmandhisside.(Asfortheweather,nodoubtthestormwouldbreaksoonAthenswasundercloud.) "Itisthosedamnedwomen,"saidJacob,withoutanytraceofbitterness,butratherwithsadnessanddisappointmentthatwhatmighthavebeenshouldneverbe. (Thisviolentdisillusionmentisgenerallytobeexpectedinyoungmenintheprimeoflife,soundofwindandlimb,whowillsoonbecomefathersoffamiliesanddirectorsofbanks.) Then,makingsurethattheFrenchwomenhadgone,andlookingcautiouslyroundhim,JacobstrolledovertotheErechtheumandlookedratherfurtivelyatthegoddessontheleft-handsideholdingtheroofonherhead.SheremindedhimofSandraWentworthWilliams.Helookedather,thenlookedaway.Helookedather,thenlookedaway.Hewasextraordinarilymoved,andwiththebatteredGreeknoseinhishead,withSandrainhishead,withallsortsofthingsinhishead,offhestartedtowalkrightuptothetopofMountHymettus,alone,intheheat. ThatveryafternoonBonamywentexpresslytotalkaboutJacobtoteawithClaraDurrantinthesquarebehindSloaneStreetwhere,onhotspringdays,therearestripedblindsoverthefrontwindows,singlehorsespawingthemacadamoutsidethedoors,andelderlygentlemeninyellowwaistcoatsringingbellsandsteppinginverypolitelywhenthemaiddemurelyrepliesthatMrs.Durrantisathome. BonamysatwithClarainthesunnyfrontroomwiththebarrelorganpipingsweetlyou