I spoke of `Aylwin.' The parlourmaid brought in
the hot dishes. The great moment was at hand.
Nor was I disappointed. Swinburne's entry was for me a great moment.
Here, suddenly visible in the flesh, was the legendary being and
divine singer. Here he was, shutting the door behind him as might
anybody else, and advancing--a strange small figure in grey, having an
air at once noble and roguish, proud and skittish. My name was roared
to him. In shaking his hand, I bowed low, of course--a bow de coeur;
and he, in the old aristocratic manner, bowed equally low, but with
such swiftness that we narrowly escaped concussion. You do not usually
associate a man of genius, when you see one, with any social class;
and, Swinburne being of an aspect so unrelated as it was to any
species of human kind, I wondered the more that almost the first
impression he made on me, or would make on any one, was that of a very
great gentleman indeed. Not of an old gentleman, either. Sparse and
straggling though the grey hair was that fringed the immense pale dome
of his head, and venerably haloed though he was for me by his
greatness, there was yet about him something--boyish? girlish?
childish, rather; something of a beautifully well-bred child. But he
had the eyes of a god, and the smile of an elf.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72