Selected Prose
1.The Bible ( King James` version), Genesis: 1-19
2. King Lear ( Act I, scene I)
3.A Clean Well-lighted Place, Hemingway.
Note: follow either of the links in order to read the story.
http://home.eol.ca/~command/hem.htm
http://shortstoryclassics.50megs.com/hemingwaycleanplace.html
4.Northanger Abbey, Jane Austin + Gulliver's Travels :Part I, A voyage to Liliput, Chapter IV.( you can find Gulliver's text at the end of this very page.)
Northanger Abbey: Chapter 20 (Chapter V of Volume II):
Catherine Morland:
"...you must be so fond of the abbey! After being used to such a home as the abbey, an ordinary parsonage-house must be very disagreeable."
Henry Tilney:
He smiled, and said, "You have formed a very favourable idea of the abbey."
Catherine Morland:
"To be sure, I have. Is not it a fine old place, just like what one reads about?"
Henry Tilney:
"And are you prepared to encounter all the horrors that a building such as ``what one reads about'' may produce? -- Have you a stout heart? -- Nerves fit for sliding panels and tapestry?"
Catherine Morland:
"Oh! yes -- I do not think I should be easily frightened, because there would be so many people in the house -- and besides, it has never been uninhabited and left deserted for years, and then the family come back to it unawares, without giving any notice, as generally happens."
Henry Tilney:
"No, certainly. -- We shall not have to explore our way into a hall dimly lighted by the expiring embers of a wood fire -- nor be obliged to spread our beds on the floor of a room without windows, doors, or furniture. But you must be aware that when a young lady is (by whatever means) introduced into a dwelling of this kind, she is always lodged apart from the rest of the family. While they snugly repair to their own end of the house, she is formally conducted by Dorothy, the ancient housekeeper, up a different staircase, and along many gloomy passages, into an apartment never used since some cousin or kin died in it about twenty years before. Can you stand such a ceremony as this? Will not your mind misgive you when you find yourself in this gloomy chamber -- too lofty and extensive for you, with only the feeble rays of a single lamp to take in its size -- its walls hung with tapestry exhibiting figures as large as life, and the bed, of dark green stuff or purple velvet, presenting even a funereal appearance? Will not your heart sink within you?"
Catherine Morland:
"Oh! But this will not happen to me, I am sure."
Henry Tilney:
"How fearfully will you examine the furniture of your apartment! -- And what will you discern? -- Not tables, toilettes, wardrobes, or drawers, but on one side perhaps the remains of a broken lute, on the other a ponderous chest which no efforts can open, and over the fireplace the portrait of some handsome warrior, whose features will so incomprehensibly strike you, that you will not be able to withdraw your eyes from it. Dorothy, meanwhile, no less struck by your appearance, gazes on you in great agitation, and drops a few unintelligible hints. To raise your spirits, moreover, she gives you reason to suppose that the part of the abbey you inhabit is undoubtedly haunted, and informs you that you will not have a single domestic within call. With this parting cordial she curtsies off -- you listen to the sound of her receding footsteps as long as the last echo can reach you -- and when, with fainting spirits, you attempt to fasten your door, you discover, with increased alarm, that it has no lock."
Catherine Morland:
"Oh! Mr. Tilney, how frightful! -- This is just like a book! -- But it cannot really happen to me. I am sure your housekeeper is not really Dorothy. -- Well, what then?"
Henry Tilney:
"Nothing further to alarm perhaps may occur the first night. After surmounting your unconquerable horror of the bed, you will retire to rest, and get a few hours' unquiet slumber. But on the second, or at farthest the third night after your arrival, you will probably have a violent storm. Peals of thunder so loud as to seem to shake the edifice to its foundation will roll round the neighbouring mountains -- and during the frightful gusts of wind which accompany it, you will probably think you discern (for your lamp is not extinguished) one part of the hanging more violently agitated than the rest. Unable of course to repress your curiosity in so favourable a moment for indulging it, you will instantly arise, and throwing your dressing-gown around you, proceed to examine this mystery. After a very short search, you will discover a division in the tapestry so artfully constructed as to defy the minutest inspection, and on opening it, a door will immediately appear -- which door, being only secured by massy bars and a padlock, you will, after a few efforts, succeed in opening -- and, with your lamp in your hand, will pass through it into a small vaulted room."
Catherine Morland:
"No, indeed; I should be too much frightened to do any such thing."
Henry Tilney:
"What! Not when Dorothy has given you to understand that there is a secret subterraneous communication between your apartment and the chapel of St. Anthony, scarcely two miles off? Could you shrink from so simple an adventure? No, no, you will proceed into this small vaulted room, and through this into several others, without perceiving anything very remarkable in either. In one perhaps there may be a dagger, in another a few drops of blood, and in a third the remains of some instrument of torture; but there being nothing in all this out of the common way, and your lamp being nearly exhausted, you will return towards your own apartment. In repassing through the small vaulted room, however, your eyes will be attracted towards a large, old-fashioned cabinet of ebony and gold, which, though narrowly examining the furniture before, you had passed unnoticed. Impelled by an irresistible presentiment, you will eagerly advance to it, unlock its folding doors, and search into every drawer; -- but for some time without discovering anything of importance -- perhaps nothing but a considerable hoard of diamonds. At last, however, by touching a secret spring, an inner compartment will open -- a roll of paper appears: you seize it -- it contains many sheets of manuscript -- you hasten with the precious treasure into your own chamber, but scarcely have you been able to decipher ``Oh! Thou -- whomsoever thou mayst be -- into whose hands these memoirs of the wretched Matilda may fall'' -- when your lamp suddenly expires in the socket, and leaves you in total darkness."
Catherine Morland:
"Oh! no, no -- do not say so. Well, go on."
But Henry was too much amused by the interest he had raised to be able to carry it farther; he could no longer command solemnity either of subject or voice, and was obliged to entreat her to use her own fancy in the perusal of Matilda's woes. Catherine, recollecting herself, grew ashamed of her eagerness, and began earnestly to assure him that her attention had been fixed without the smallest apprehension of really meeting with what he related. "Miss Tilney, she was sure, would never put her into such a chamber as he had described! -- She was not at all afraid."
5. The Awakening, Kate Chopin.
6.That Evening Sun, Willianm Faulkner. ( Literature Structure Sound and Sense)
7.Pygmalion, George Bernard Shaw ( Act I)
ACT ONE
CONVENT GARDEN at 11.15 p.m. Torrents of heavy summer rain. Cab whistles blowing frantically in all directions. Pedestrians running for shelter into the market and under the portico of St Paul�s Church, where there are already several people, among them a lady and her daughter in evening dress. They are all peering out gloomily at the rain, except one man with his back turned to the rest, who seems wholly preoccupied with a notebook in which he is writing.
The church clock strikes the first quarter.
THE DAUGHTER (in the space between the central pillars, close tothe one on her left)
I�m getting chilled to the bone. What canFreddy be doing all this time? He�s been gone twenty minutes.
THE MOTHER (on her daughter�s right)
Not so long. But he ought to have got us a cab by this.
A BYSTANDER (on the lady�s right)
He wont get no cab not until half-past eleven, missus, when they come back after dropping their theatre fares.
THE MOTHER
But we must have a cab. We cant stand here until half-past eleven. It�s too bad.
THE BYSTANDER.
Well, it aint my fault, missus.
THE DAUGHTER If Freddy had a bit of gumption, he would have got one at the theatre door.
THE MOTHER
What could he have done, poor boy?
THE DAUGHTER
Other people got cabs. Why couldnt he? Freddy rushes in out of the rain from the Southampton Street side, and comes between them closing a dripping umbrella. He is a young man of twenty, in evening dress, very wet round the ankles.
THE DAUGHTER
Well, havnt you got a cab?
FREDDY
Theres not one to be had for love or money.
THE MOTHER
Oh, Freddy, there must be one. You cant have tried.
THE DAUGHTER
It�s too tiresome. Do you expect us to go and get one ourselves?
FREDDY
I tell you theyre all engaged. The rain was so sudden:
nobody was prepared; and everybody had to take a cab. Ive been to Charing Cross one way and nearly to Ludgate Circus the other; and they were all engaged.
THE MOTHER
Did you try Trafalgar Square?
FREDDY
There wasnt one at Trafalgar Square.
THE DAUGHTER
Did you try?
FREDDY
I tried as far as Charing Cross Station. Did you expect me to walk to Hammersmith?
THE DAUGHTER
You havnt tried at all.
THE MOTHER
You really are very helpless, Freddy. Go again; and dont come back until you have found a cab.
FREDDY
I shall simply get soaked for nothing.
THE DAUGHTER
And what about us? Are we to stay here all night in this draught, with next to nothing on? You selfish pig
FREDDY
Oh, very well: I�ll go, I�ll go.
(He opens his umbrella and dashes off Strandwards, but comes into collision with a flower girl who is hurrying in for shelter, knocking her basket out of her hands.
A blinding flash of lightning, followed instantly by a rattling peal of thunder, orchestrates the incident).
THE FLOWER GIRL
Nah then, Freddy: look wh� y� gowin, deah.
FREDDY
Sorry
[he rushes off].
THE FLOWER GIRL
(picking up her scattered flowers and replacingthem in the basket)
Theres menners f� yer! Te-oo banches o voylets trod into the mad.
(She sits down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers, on the lady�s right. She is not at all an attractive person. She is perhaps eighteen, perhaps twenty, hardly older. She wears a little sailor hat of black straw that has long been exposed to the dust and soot of London and has seldom if ever been brushed. Her hair needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly be natural. She wears a shoddy black coat that reaches nearly to her knees and is shaped to her waist. She has a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her boots are much the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she can afford to be; but compared to the ladies she is very dirty. Her features are no worse than theirs; but their condition leaves something to he desired; and she needs the services of a dentist).
THE MOTHER
How do you know that my son�s name is Freddy, pray?
THE FLOWER GIRL
Ow, eez ye-ooa san, is e? Wal, fewd dan y� de-ooty bawmz a mather should, eed now bettern to spawl a pore gel�s flahrzn than ran awy athaht pyin. Will ye-oo py me f� them?
(Here, with apologies, this desperate attempt to represent her dialect without a phonetic alphahet must be abandoned as unintelligible outside London).
THE DAUGHTER
Do nothing of the sort, Mother. The idea!
THE MOTHER
Please allow me, Clara. Have you any pennies?
THE DAUGHTER
No. Ive nothing smaller than sixpence.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(hopefully)
I can give you change for a tanner, kind lady.
THE MOTHER
(to Clara)
Give it to me.
(Clara parts reluctantly).
Now
(to the girl)
This is for your flowers.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Thank you kindly, lady.
THE DAUGHTER
Make her give you the change. These things are only a penny a bunch.
THE MOTHER
Do hold your tongue, Clara.
(To the girl)
You can keep the change.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Oh, thank you, lady.
THE MOTHER
Now tell me how you know that young gentleman�s name.
THE FLOWER GIRL
I didnt.
THE MOTHER
I heard you call him by it. Dont try to deceive me.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(protesting)
Who�s trying to deceive you? I called him Freddy or Charlie same as you might yourself if you was talking to a stranger and wished to be pleasant.
(She sits down beside her basket).
THE DAUGHTER
Sixpence thrown away! Really, Mamma, you might have spared Freddy that.
(She retreats in disgust behind the pillar). -
An elderly gentleman of the amiable military type rushes into the shelter, and closes a dripping umbrella. He is in the same plight as Freddy, very wet about the ankles. He is in evening dress, with a light overcoat. He takes the place left vacant by the daughter�s retirement.
THE GENTLEMAN
Phew!
THE MOTHER
(to the gentleman)
Oh sir, is there any sign of its stopping?
THE GENTLEMAN
I�m afraid not. It started worse than ever about two minutes ago
(He goes to the plinth beside the flower girl; puts up his foot on it; and stoops to turn down his trouser ends).
THE MOTHER
Oh dear!
(She retires sadly and joins her daughter).
THE FLOWER GIRL
(taking advantage of the military gentleman�s proxmity to establish friendly relations with him)
If it�s worse, it�s a sign it�s nearly over. So cheer up, Captain; and buy a flower off a poor girl.
THE GENTLEMAN
I�m sorry. I havnt any change.
THE FLOWER GIRL
I can give you change, Captain.
THE GENTLEMAN
For a sovereign? Ive nothing less.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Garn! Oh do buy a flower off me, Captain. I can change half-a-crown. Take this for tuppence.
THE GENTLEMAN
Now dont be troublesome: theres a good girl.
(Trying his pockets)
I really havnt any change- Stop: heres three hapence, if thats any use to you
(he retreats to the other pillar).
THE FLOWER GIRL
(disappointed, but thinking three halfpence better than nothing)
Thank you, sir.
THE BYSTANDER
(to the girl)
You be careful: give him a flower for it. Theres a bloke here behind taking down every blessed word youre saying.
(All turn to the man who is taking notes).
THE FLOWER GIRL
(springing up terrified)
I aint done nothing wrong by speaking to the gentleman. Ive a right to sell flowers if I keep off the kerb.
(Hysterically)
I�m a respectable girl: so help me, I never spoke to him except to ask him to buy a flower off me.
(General hubbub, mostly sympathetic to the flower girl, but deprecating her excessive sensibility. Cries of Dont start hollerin. Who�s hurting you? Nobody�s going to touch you. Whats the good of fussing? Steady on. Easy easy, etc., come from the elderly staid spectators, who pat her comfortingly. Less patient ones bid her shut her head, or ask her roughly what is wrong with her. A remoter group, not knowing what the matter is, crowd in and increase the noise with question and answer: Whats the row? Whatshe do? Where is he? A tec taking her down. What! him? Yes: him over there: Took money off the gentleman, etc. The flower girl, distraught and mobbed, breaks through them to the gentleman, crying wildly)
Oh, sir, dont let him charge me. You dunno what it means to me.
Theyll take away my character and drive me on the streets for speaking togentlemen. They
THE NOTE TAKER
(coming forward on her right, the rest crowding after him)
There, there, there, there! who�s hurting you, you silly girl? What do you take me for?
THE BYSTANDER.
It�s all right: he�s a genleman: look at his boots.
(Explaining to the note taker)
She thought you was a copper�s nark, sir.
THE NOTE TAKER
(with quick interest)
Whats a copper�s nark?
THE BYSTANDER
(inapt at definition)
It�s a- well, it�s a copper�s nark, as you might say. What else would you call it? A sort of informer.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(still hysterical)
I take my Bible oath I never said a word
THE NOTE TAKER
(overbearing but good-humored)
Oh, shut up, shut up.
Do I look like a policeman?
THE FLOWER GIRL
(far from reassured)
Then what did you take down mywords for? How do I know whether you took me down right? You just shew me what youve wrote about me.
(The note taker opens his book and holds it steadily under her nose, though the pressure of the mob trying to read it over his shoulders would upset a weaker man).
Whats that? That aint proper writing. I cant read that.
THE NOTE TAKER
I can.
(Reads, reproducing her pronunciation exactly)
�Cheer ap, Keptin; n�baw ya flahr orf a pore gel.�
THE FLOWER GIRL
(much distressed)
It�s because I called him Captain. I meant no harm.
(To the gentleman)
Oh, sir, dont let him lay a charge agen me for a word like that. You
THE GENTLEMAN
Charge! I make no charge.
(To the note taker)
Really, sir, if you are a detective, you need not begin protecting me against molestation by young women until I ask you. Anybody could see that the girl meant no harm.
THE BYSTANDERS GENERALLY
(demonstrating against police espionage)
Course they could. What business is it of yours? You mind your own affairs. He wants promotion, he does. Taking down people�s words! Girl never said a word to him. What harm if she did? Nice thing a girl cant shelter from the rain without being insulted, etc., etc., etc.
(She is conducted by the more sympathetic demonstrators back to her plinth, where she resumes her seat and struggles with her emotion).
THE BYSTANDER.
He aint a tec. He�s a blooming busybody: thats what he is. I tell you, look at his boots.
THE NOTE TAKER
(turning on him genially)
And how are all your people down at Selsey?
THE BYSTANDER
(suspiciously)
Who told you my people come from Selsey?
THE NOTE TAKER
Never you mind. They did.
(To the girl)
How do you come to be up so far east? You were born in Lisson Grove.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(appalled)
Oh, what harm is there in my leaving Lisson Grove? It wasnt fit for a pig to live in; and I had to pay four-and-six a week.
(In tears)
Oh, boo-hoo-oo
THE NOTE TAKER
Live where you like; but stop that noise.
THE GENTLEMAN
(to the girl)
Come, come! he cant touch you: you have a right to live where you please.
A SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
(thrusting himself between the note taker and the gentleman)
Park Lane, for instance. I�d like to go into the Housing Question with you, I would.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(subsiding into a brooding melancholy over her basket, and talking very low-spiritedly to herself)
I�m a good girl, I am.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
(not attending to her)
Do you know where I come from?
THE NOTE TAKER
(promptly)
Hoxton. Titterings. Popular interest in the note taker�s performance increases.
THE SARCASTIC ONE
(amazed)
Well, who said I didnt? Bly me! You know everything, you do.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(still nursing her sense of injury)
Aint no call to meddle with me, he aint.
THE BYSTANDER
(to her)
Of course he aint. Dont you stand it from him.
(To the note taker)
See here: what call have you to know about people what never offered to meddle with you? Wheres your warrant?
SEVERAL BYSTANDERS
(encouraged by this seeming point of law)
Yes:
wheres your warrant?
THE FLOWER GIRL
Let him say what he likes. I dont want to have no truck with him.
THE BYSTANDER.
You take us for dirt under your feet, dont you? Catch you taking liberties with a gentleman!
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
Yes: tell him where he come from if you want to go fortune-telling.
THE NOTE TAKER
Cheltenham, Harrow, Cambridge, and India.
THE GENTLEMAN
Quite right.
(Great laughter. Reaction in the note taker�s favor. Exclamations of He knows all about it. Told him proper. Hear him tell the toff where he come from? etc.)
May I ask, sir, do you do this for your living at a music hall?
THE NOTE TAKER
Ive thought of that. Perhaps I shall some day. The rain has stopped; and the persons on the outside of the crowd begin to drop off. -
THE FLOWER GIRL
(resenting the reaction)
He�s no gentleman, he aint, to interfere with a poor girl.
THE DAUGHTER
(out of patience, pushing her way rudely to the front and displacing the gentleman, who politely retires to the other side of the pillar)
What on earth is Freddy doing? I shall get pneumownia if I stay in this draught any longer.
THE NOTE TAKER
(to himself, hastily making a note of her pronunciation of �monia�)
Earlscourt.
THE DAUGHTER
(violently)
Will you please keep your impertinent remarks to yourself.
THE NOTE TAKER
Did I say that out loud? I didnt mean to. I beg your pardon. Your mother�s Epsom, unmistakeably.
THE MOTHER
(advancing between her daughter and the note taker)
How very curious! I was brought up in Largelady Park, near Epsom.
THE NOTE TAKER
(uproariously amused)
Ha! ha! What a devil of a name! Excuse me.
(To the daughter)
You want a cab, do you?
THE DAUGHTER
Dont dare speak to me.
THE MOTHER
Oh please, please, Clara.
(Her daughter repudiates her with an angry shrug and retires haughtily).
We should be so grateful to you, sir, if you found us a cab.
(The note taker produces a whistle).
Oh, thank you.
(She joins her daughter). The note taker blows a piercing blast.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
There! I knowed he was a plainclothes copper.
THE BYSTANDER.
That aint a police whistle: thats a sporting whistle.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(still preoccupied with her wounded feelings)
He�s no right to take away my character. My character is the same to me as any lady�s.
THE NOTE TAKER
I dont know whether youve noticed it; but the rain stopped about two minutes ago.
THE BYSTANDER.
So it has. Why didnt you say so before? and us losing our time listening to your silliness!
(He walks off towards the Strand).
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
I can tell where you come from. You come from Anwell. Go back there.
THE NOTE TAKER
(helpfully)
Hanwell.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER
(affecting great distinction of speech)
Thenk you, teacher. Haw haw! So long
(he touches his hat with mock respect and strolls off).
THE FLOWER GIRL
Frightening people like that! How would he like it himself?
THE MOTHER
It�s quite fine now, Clara. We can walk to a motor bus.
Come.
(She gathers her skirts above her ankles and hurries off towards the Strand).
THE DAUGHTER
But the cab (her mother is out of hearing).
Oh, how tiresome!
(She follows angrily). All the rest have gone except the note taker, the gentleman, and the flower girl, who sits arranging her basket, and still pitying herself in murmurs.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Poor girl! Hard enough for her to live without being worrited and chivied.
THE GENTLEMAN
(returning to his former place on the note taker�s left)
How do you do it, if I may ask?
THE NOTE TAKER
Simply phonetics. The science of speech. Thats my profession: also my hobby. Happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby! You can spot an Irishman or a Yorkshireman by his brogue. I can place any man within six miles. I can place him within two miles in London. Sometimes within two streets.
THE FLOWER GIRL
Ought to be ashamed of himself, unmanly coward!
THE GENTLEMAN
But is there a living in that?
THE NOTE TAKER
Oh yes. Quite a fat one. This is an age of upstarts. Men begin in Kentish Town with L80 a year, and end in Park Lane with a hundred thousand. They want to drop Kentish Town; but they give themselves away every time they open their mouths. Now I can teach them-
THE FLOWER GIRL
Let him mind his own business and leave a poor girl
THE NOTE TAKER
(explosively)
Woman: cease this detestable boohooing instantly; or else seek the shelter of some other place of worship.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(with feeble defiance)
Ive a right to be here if I like, same as you.
THE NOTE TAKER
A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere- no right to live. Remember that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespear and Milton and the Bible; and dont sit there crooning like a bilious pigeon.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(quite overwhelmed, looking up at him in mingled wonder and deprecation without daring to raise her head)
Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow-oo!
THE NOTE TAKER
(whipping out his book)
Heavens! what a sound!
(He writes; then holds out the book and reads, reproducing her vowels exactly)
Ah-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow-oo!
THE FLOWER GIRL
(tickled by the performance, and laughing in spite of herself)
Garn!
THE NOTE TAKER
You see this creature with her kerbstone English:
the English that will keep her in the gutter to the end of her days. Well, sir, in three months I could pass that girl off as
a duchess at an ambassador�s garden party. I could even get her a place as lady�s maid or shop assistant, which requires better English. Thats the sort of thing I do for commercial millionaires. And on the profits of it I do genuine scientific work in phonetics, and a little as a poet on Miltonic lines.
THE GENTLEMAN
I am myself a student of Indian dialects; and
THE NOTE TAKER
(eagerly)
Are you? Do you know Colonel Pickering, the author of Spoken Sanscrit?
THE GENTLEMAN
I am Colonel Pickering. Who are you?
THE NOTE TAKER
Henry Higgins, author of Higgins�s Universal Alphabet.
PICKERING
(with enthusiasm)
I came from India to meet you.
HIGGINS
I was going to India to meet you.
PICKERING
Where do you live?
HIGGINS
27A Wimpole Street. Come and see me to-morrow.
PICKERING
I�m at the Carlton. Come with me now and lets have a jaw over some supper.
HIGGINS
Right you are.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(to Pickering, as he passes her)
Buy a flower, kind gentleman. I�m short for my lodging.
PICKERING
I really havnt any change. I�m sorry
(he goes away).
HIGGINS
(shocked at the girl�s mendacity)
Liar. You said you could change half-a-crown.
THE FLOWER GIRL
(rising in desperation)
You ought to be stuffed with nails, you ought.
(Flinging the basket at his feet)
Take the whole blooming basket for sixpence. The church clock strikes the second quarter.
HIGGINS
(hearing in it the voice of God, rebuking him for his Pharisaic want of charity to the poor girl)
A reminder.
(He raises his hat solemnly; then throws a handful of money into the basket and follows Pickering).
THE FLOWER GIRL
(picking up a half-crown)
Ah-ow-ooh!
(Picking up a couple of florins)
Aaah-ow-ooh!
(Picking up several coins)
Aaaaaah-ow-ooh!
(Picking up a half-sovereign)
Aaaaaaaaaaaah-ow-ooh!!!
FREDDY
(springing out of a taxicab)
Got one at last. Hallo!
(To the girl)
Where are the two ladies that were here?
THE FLOWER GIRL
They walked to the bus when the rain stopped.
FREDDY
And left me with a cab on my hands! Damnation!
THE FLOWER GIRL
(with grandeur)
Never mind, young man. I�m going home in a taxi.
(She sails off to the cab. The driver puts his hand behind him and holds the door firmly shut against her. Quite understanding his mistrust, she shews him her handful of money).
Eightpence aint no object to me, Charlie.
(He grins and opens the door).
Angel Court, Drury Lane, round the corner of Micklejohn�s oil shop. Lets see how fast you can make her hop it.
(She gets in and pulls the door to with a slam as the taxicab starts).
FREDDY
Well, I�m dashed!
4.Gulliver`s Travels :Part I, A voyage to Lilliput, Chapter IV.
The first Request I made after I had obtained my Liberty, was, that I might have Licence to see Mildendo, the Metropolis, which the Emperor easily granted me, but with a special Charge to do no hurt either to the Inhabitants or their Houses. The People had notice by Proclamation of my design to visit the Town. The Wall which encompassed it is two foot and a half high, and at least eleven Inches broad, so that a Coach and Horses may be driven very safely round it; and it is flanked with strong Towers at ten foot distance. I stept over the great Western Gate, and passed very gently, and sideling through the two principal Streets, only in my short Waistcoat, for fear of damaging the Roofs and Eaves of the Houses with the Skirts of my Coat. I walked with the utmost Circumspection, to avoid treading on any Stragglers, that might remain in the Streets, although the Orders were very strict, that all People should keep in their Houses at their own peril. The Garret-windows and Tops of Houses were so crowded with Spectators, that I thought in all my Travels I had not seen a more populous Place. The City is an exact Square, each Side of the Wall being five hundred foot long. The two great Streets, which run cross and divide it into four Quarters, are five foot wide. The Lanes and Alleys, which I could not enter, but only viewed them as I passed, are from twelve to eighteen Inches. The Town is capable of holding five hundred thousand Souls. The Houses are from three to five Stories. The Shops and Markets well provided.
The Emperor's Palace is in the Center of the City, where the two great Streets meet. It is enclosed by a Wall of two foot high, and twenty foot distant from the buildings. I had his Majesty's Permission to step over this Wall; and the Space being so wide between that and the Palace, I could easily view it on every side. The outward Court is a Square of forty foot, and includes two other Courts: in the inmost are the Royal Apartments, which I was very desirous to see, but found it extremely difficult; for the great Gates, from one Square into another, were but eighteen Inches high and seven Inches wide. Now the Buildings of the outer Court were at least five foot high, and it was impossible for me to stride over them without infinite Damage to the Pile, though the Walls were strongly built of hewn Stone, and four Inches thick. At the same time the Emperor had a great desire that I should see the Magnificence of his Palace; but this I was not able to do till three Days after, which I spent in cutting down with my Knife some of the largest Trees in the Royal Park, about an hundred Yards distant from the City. Of these Trees I made two Stools, each about three foot high, and strong enough to bear my Weight. The People having received notice a second time, I went again through the City to the Palace, with my two Stools in my Hands. When I came to the side of the outer Court, I stood upon one Stool, and took the other in my Hand: This I lifted over the Roof, and gently set it down on the Space between the first and second Court, which was eight foot wide. I then stept over the Buildings very conveniently from one Stool to the other, and drew up the first after me with a hooked Stick. By this Contrivance I got into the inmost Court; and lying down upon my Side, I applied my Face to the Windows of the middle Stories, which were left open on purpose, and discovered the most splendid Apartments that can be imagined. There I saw the Empress and the young Princes, in their several Lodgings, with their chief Attendants about them. Her Imperial Majesty was pleased to smile very graciously upon me, and gave me out of the Window her Hand to kiss.
But I shall not anticipate the Reader with farther Descriptions of this kind, because I reserve them for a greater Work, which is now almost ready for the Press, containing a general Description of this Empire, from its first Erection, through a long Series of Princes, with a particular Account of their Wars and Politicks, Laws, Learning, and Religion: their Plants and Animals, their peculiar Manners and Customs, with other Matters very curious and useful; my chief design at present being only to relate such Events and Transactions as happened to the Publick, or to myself, during a Residence of about nine Months in that Empire.
One Morning, about a Fortnight after I had obtained my Liberty, Reldresal, Principal Secretary (as they style him) of private Affairs, came to my House, attended only by one Servant. He ordered his Coach to wait at a distance, and desired I would give him an Hour's Audience; which I readily consented to, on account of his Quality, and Personal Merits, as well as the many good Offices he had done me during my Sollicitations at Court. I offered to lie down, that he might the more conveniently reach my Ear; but he chose rather to let me hold him in my hand during our Conversation. He began with Compliments on my Liberty; said he might pretend to some Merit in it: but, however, added, that if it had not been for the present Situation of things at Court, perhaps I might not have obtained it so soon. For, said he, as flourishing a Condition as we may appear to be in to Foreigners, we labor under two mighty Evils; a violent Faction at home, and the Danger of an Invasion by a most potent Enemy from abroad. As to the first, you are to understand, that for above seventy Moons past there have been two struggling Parties in this Empire, under the Names of Tramecksan and Slamecksan, from the high and low Heels on their shoes, by which they distinguish themselves. It is alleged indeed, that the high Heels are most agreeable to our ancient Constitution: But however this be, his Majesty has determined to make use of only low Heels in the Administration of the Government, and all Offices in the Gift of the Crown, as you cannot but observe; and particularly, that his Majesty's Imperial Heels are lower at least by a Drurr than any of his Court; (Drurr is a Measure about the fourteenth Part of an Inch). The Animositys between these two Parties run so high, that they will neither eat nor drink, nor talk with each other. We compute the Tramecksan, or High-Heels, to exceed us in number; but the Power is wholly on our Side. We apprehend his Imperial Highness, the Heir to the Crown, to have some Tendency towards the High-Heels; at least we can plainly discover one of his Heels higher than the other, which gives him a Hobble in his Gait. Now, in the midst of these intestine Disquiets, we are threatened with an Invasion from the Island of Blefuscu, which is the other great Empire of the Universe, almost as large and powerful as this of his Majesty. For as to what we have heard you affirm, that there are other Kingdoms and States in the World inhabited by human Creatures as large as yourself, our Philosophers are in much doubt, and would rather conjecture that you dropt from the Moon, or one of the Stars; because it is certain, that a hundred Mortals of your Bulk would, in a short time, destroy all the Fruits and Cattle of his Majesty's Dominions. Besides, our Histories of six thousand Moons make no mention of any other Regions, than the two great Empires of Lilliput and Blefuscu. Which two mighty Powers have, as I was going to tell you, been engaged in a most obstinate War for six and thirty Moons past. It began upon the following Occasion. It is allowed on all Hands, that the primitive way of breaking Eggs, before we eat them, was upon the larger End: But his present Majesty's Grand-father, while he was a Boy, going to eat an Egg, and breaking it according to the ancient Practice, happened to cut one of his Fingers. Whereupon the Emperor his Father published an Edict, commanding all his Subjects, upon great Penaltys, to break the smaller End of their Eggs. The People so highly resented this Law, that our Histories tell us there have been six Rebellions raised on that account; wherein one Emperor lost his Life, and another his Crown. These civil Commotions were constantly fomented by the Monarchs of Blefuscu; and when they were quelled, the Exiles always fled for Refuge to that Empire. It is computed, that eleven thousand Persons have, at several times, suffered Death, rather than submit to break their Eggs at the smaller End. Many hundred large Volumes have been published upon this Controversy: But the books of the Big-Endians have been long forbidden, and the whole Party rendered incapable by Law of holding Employments. During the Course of these Troubles, the Emperors of Blefuscu did frequently expostulate by their Ambassadors, accusing us of making a Schism in Religion, by offending against a fundamental Doctrine of our great Prophet Lustrog, in the fifty-fourth Chapter of the Brundrecal (which is their Alcoran.) This, however, is thought to be a meer Strain upon the Text: For the Words are these: That all true Believers shall break their Eggs at the convenient End: and which is the convenient End, seems, in my humble Opinion, to be left to every Man's Conscience, or at least in the power of the Chief Magistrate to determine. Now the Big-Endian Exiles have found so much Credit in the Emperor of Blefuscu's Court, and so much private Assistance and Encouragement from their Party here at home, that a bloody War has been carried on between the two Empires for six and thirty Moons with various Success; during which time we have lost forty Capital Ships, and a much greater number of smaller Vessels, together with thirty thousand of our best Seamen and Soldiers; and the Damage received by the Enemy is reckon'd to be somewhat greater than Ours. However, they have now equipped a numerous Fleet, and are just preparing to make a Descent upon us; and his Imperial Majesty, placing great Confidence in your Valour and Strength, has commanded me to lay this Account of his affairs before you.