Angels Ministers | Page 9

were everywhere: they fawned on me in wreaths and festoons; swarmed over me like parasites; flew at me like flies; till it seemed that the whole world had conspired to suffocate me under a sulphurous canopy of those detestable little atoms. Can you imagine the horror of it, Doctor, to a sane--a hitherto sane mind like mine?
DOCTOR. Oh! In a dream any figment may excite aversion.
STATESMAN. This wasn't like a dream. It was rather the threat of some new disease, some brain malady about to descend on me: possibly delirium tremens. I have not been of abstemious habits, Doctor. Suppose--?
DOCTOR. Impossible! Dismiss altogether that supposition from your mind!
STATESMAN. Well, Doctor, I hope--I hope you may be right. For I assure you that the horror I then conceived for those pale botanical specimens in their pestiferous and increscent abundance, exceeded what words can describe. I have felt spiritually devastated ever since, as though some vast calamity were about to fall not only on my own intellect, but on that of my country. Well, you shall hear.
(_He draws his trembling bands wearily over his face, and sits thinking awhile_.)
With all the harsh abruptness of a soul launched into eternity by the jerk of the hangman's rope, so I found myself precipitated into the midst of this dream. I was standing on a pillory, set up in Parliament Square, facing the Abbey. I could see the hands of St. Margaret's clock pointing to half-past eleven; and away to the left the roof of Westminster Hall undergoing restoration. Details, Doctor, which gave a curious reality to a scene otherwise fantastic, unbelievable. There I stood in a pillory, raised up from earth; and a great crowd had gathered to look at me. I can only describe it as a primrose crowd. The disease infected all, but not so badly as it did me. The yellow contagion spread everywhere; from all the streets around, the botanical deluge continued to flow in upon me. I felt a pressure at my back; a man had placed a ladder against it; he mounted and hung a large wreath of primroses about my neck. The sniggering crowd applauded the indignity. Having placed a smaller wreath upon my head, he descended.... A mockery of a May Queen, there I stood!
DOCTOR (_laying a soothing hand on him_). A dream, my dear lord, only a dream.
STATESMAN. Doctor, imagine my feelings! My sense of ridicule was keen; but keener my sense of the injustice--not to be allowed to know why the whole world was thus making mock of me. For this was in the nature of a public celebration, its malignity was organised and national; a new fifth of November had been sprung upon the calendar. Around me I saw the emblematic watchwords of the great party I had once led to triumph: "Imperium et Libertas," "Peace with Honour," "England shall reign where'er the sun," and other mottoes of a like kind; and on them also the floral disease had spread itself. The air grew thick and heavy with its sick-room odour. Doctor, I could have vomited.
DOCTOR. Yes, yes; a touch of biliousness, I don't doubt.
STATESMAN. With a sudden flash of insight--"This," I said to myself, "is my Day of Judgment. Here I stand, judged by my fellow-countrymen, for the failures and shortcomings of my political career. The good intentions with which my path was strewn are now turned to my reproach. But why do they take this particular form? Why--why primroses?"
DOCTOR. "The primrose way" possibly?
STATESMAN. Ah! That occurred to me. But has it, indeed, been a primrose way that I have trodden so long and so painfully? I think not. I cannot so accuse myself. But suppose the Day of Judgment which Fate reserves for us were fundamentally this: the appraisement of one's life and character--not by the all-seeing Eye of Heaven (before which I would bow), but by the vindictively unjust verdict of the people one has tried to serve--the judgment not of God, but of public opinion. That is a judgment of which all who strive for power must admit the relevancy!
DOCTOR. You distress yourself unnecessarily, dear lord. Your reputation is safe from detraction now.
STATESMAN. With urgency I set my mind to meet the charge. If I could understand the meaning of that yellow visitation, then I should no longer have to fear that I was going mad!
(_At this point the door is discreetly opened, and the Housekeeper, mild, benign, but inflexible,_ ENTERS, _carrying a cup and toast-rack upon a tray_.)
HOUSEKEEPER. I beg pardon, my lord; but I think your lordship ought to have your beef-tea now.
STATESMAN. Yes, yes, Mrs. Manson; come in.
DOCTOR. You are right, Mrs. Manson; he ought.
HOUSEKEEPER (_placing the tray on a small stand_). Where will you have it, my lord?
STATESMAN. In my inside, Mrs. Manson--presently--he, he!
DOCTOR. Now,